


The End Of All Things

by dolphins



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Dating, Established Relationship, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mild Gore, Post Season/Series 02, Siren, Strong References of Character Death/Dying, Warming Up/Cooling Down, Zombie Stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2425964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dolphins/pseuds/dolphins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Partially Deceased Syndrome sufferers find themselves becoming less, well, <i>deceased<i>. But could it be that the phenomenan offers up more questions than it does answers?</i></i></p><p> </p><p>  <i><br/>    <i>After all, what happens to the PDS-sufferers that do not change?</i><br/>  </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i><br/>    <i> (Title taken from The End Of All Things by Panic! At The Disco)</i><br/>  </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is the first part of my new story! :) x
> 
> It's got some sad themes, ect. so a warning for that!
> 
> Okay, well, I seriously hope you lovely people like it!

"Can I get-" Kieren blinks as the words slide off his tongue like playful penguins down a snowy slope. Gone. Just like the thoughts in his head.

He shakes his head and frowns into space, the barista's inquisitive gaze giving him the phantom sensation of blushing. (Which of course, everyone knows PDS-folk cannot do).

Slightly frantically, he tries to recollect what he had just been told almost seconds ago, but sadly comes up short.

"I'll be right back," he says apologetically to the rather bored-looking employee as he treads back to where his mum and Jem were seated.

"I've completely forgot," he explains in response to their puzzled stares towards his empty hands.

Jem rolls her eyes and mutters something before trudging up to do the ordering, (If you want something doing you have to do it yourself) while Sue simply gives him a smile as he flops back into his seat.

"I'll be forgetting my head next," he half snorts, before the words quickly seep into his tongue and he could have recalled the flavour from a mile off.

_Simon. ___

__Kieren could have covered his face and just about died. (Again). He was starting to say Simon's phrases. Dear God. He had it bad._ _

__"Happens to the best of us," Sue muses, flicking through the magazine that had been left on the table top, "Mind the year we near forgot Jem's birthday," she says absentmindedly as an article grabs most of her attention._ _

__"No," he breathes out a laugh, eyebrows raised in humour-filled curiousity._ _

__Sue looks up and something seems to hit her. A thought most likely. Whatever it is, it wasn't a fond memory or cheerful reflection._ _

__Her eyes drop back to the magazine, although with much less desire to read it than before._ _

__"No," she says quietly, as though she doesn't quite want him to hear, "No, you wouldn't remember it,"_ _

__Silence swoops in and envelopes them, guilty realisation splashing over Kieren; threatening to drown him. Lucky he learned to swim._ _

__"What happened?" he utters, trying to reconnect the conversation and shove away that feeling._ _

__"Rushed out to the 'market and grabbed a cake, you know, one of those chocolate ones with the icing stars she always liked," Sue smiles, her eyes darting to Kieren's face only once._ _

__"Gave one look at it, she did, muttered something I didn't catch and then off she went to Bill's to load up before patrols," the smile had left as quickly as it came._ _

__It seemed to be contagious as Kieren could feel his own smile get dragged away at the mention of that man._ _

__"But forget that," Sue's demeanour did a full 360° turn and she was back to smiling kindly, "That line's got awful long, 'innit?"_ _

__Kieren glances over towards the queue and nods in agreement. The line had gotten quite long, and poor Jem was stuck towards the end of it._ _

__She certainly wouldn't be too happy when she returned._ _

__

__They enter the front door with plastic bags in tow. Kieren holding the heavier ones as Jem claims 'PDS-sufferers don't get achey muscles' although Kieren didn't quite get a chance to put up his side of the argument, he went along with her anyway._ _

__Voices filter through from the sitting room as they dump the bags on the table with sighs of relief- Kieren excluded._ _

__"Dad's talking to 'imself again," Jem quips as she rips open a packet of biscuits._ _

__"You're telling me you've never watched a film on Blu-Ray before?"_ _

__Kieren narrows his eyes as he strains to listen to the conversation next door. (Who on Earth is he speaking to?)_ _

__"It will blow regular DVDs out of the water, just you see,"_ _

__He couldn't hear the other person's responses so he looks towards Sue with a questioning look. She offers up no answers and shrugs helpfully as she switches on the kettle._ _

__"No go on, pick one Simon," he hears and Kieren is caught between chuckling at the idea of Simon having sit through this lecture; and groaning in mortification._ _

__Nonetheless, he turns on his heels and decides to save Simon._ _

__"Alright," his dad says as he walks in, looking up from the stack of Blu-Rays in his arms, "Just showing your Simon here the wonders of the world,"_ _

__Kieren looks fondly at the dark-haired man as Simon shoots him an expression of helplessness._ _

__"Having a blast I'm sure," he says, sitting down on the edge of the sofa and giving Simon a teasing expression. He would certainly get a little stick for it later._ _

__"Oh yes," Steve chips in, "Trying to get him to pick one is a bit of bother though,"_ _

__"I really don't mind, sir," Simon looks hopeless. Beating heart or not, Kieren doesn't consider himself to be completely heartless, so he decides to give Simon a break._ _

__"That one'll do grand," he points towards a random box, barely looking at what it was before facing Simon, "Fancy giving me a hand with these groceries, Simon?"_ _

__A smile pops onto his face quick as flash and Kieren can see he's relieved as he mumbles an answer and walks into the kitchen, Kieren following behind._ _

__"I'm not good at this," Simon breathes out a laugh as they stand a little too close together. Kieren half assumes it is just so nobody overhears, but he knows better._ _

__"Nah, you're great with my folk," he smiles gratefully, "How'd you get roped into that though?"_ _

__"I actually came around to see how you were doing, believe it or not," Simon grins a little, "Steve invited me in to wait and that happened,"_ _

__Kieren fiddles with the hem of Simon's jumper as he leans in impossibly closer, "You're not still worried, are you?"_ _

__"You know I am," he lets out a sharp breath and leans in to hold the edge of Kieren's soft jacket._ _

__"Stop," he gives Simon that look, "I'm fine, I promise," his hand moves up from the hem to lay gently across Simon's chest._ _

__Thankfully Jem and Sue were not in the room._ _

__"How can I just stop?" he murmurs softly in those oh-so-wonderful deep tones, "I don't want to lose you,"_ _

__"I'm okay," he assures in a typical Kieren Walker manner and gives Simon a pointed look, "I'm okay. A little shaking is probably normal from temps en temps," he grins a little._ _

__"I like it when you talk French to me," Simon practically whispers, but it was clear he was holding back a laugh._ _

__The door opens and they pull away in a mass of cluttering kitchen cabinets and pretenses of acting natural._ _

__Jem eyes them with total suspicion, sharing the glance with Sue as she follows behind._ _

__"Shifty looking buggers, aren't they?" Jem narrows her eyes playfully towards the two and for the second time today, Kieren thanks his lucky stars he cannot blush._ _

__

__Usually Simon doesn't enter Kieren's room, but today is one of those days where he does. Sitting awkwardly on the end of his small bed, occasionally fiddling with his jumper sleeves, but mainly just staring around the room in awe._ _

__Such talent. The dark-haired man just can't comprehend it._ _

__While Simon is doing that, Kieren invades the back of his closet for some old paint set or whatever. He isn't having too much luck judging by the occasional grunt._ _

__Stretching back a little, Simon's pearly eyes stop as they fall upon the view of Kieren's pillow. The place where the beautiful head; containing that beautiful brain, go to rest and sleep. Simon tries not to stare._ _

__Simon fails. But his staring does have it's advantages as he spots a few drops of a dark ink, paint, he doesn't know, on the pillowcase._ _

__He almost lets out a fond chuckle. Silly Kieren, spilling paint on every freaking surface but no. The cold, harsh truth slaps Simon in the face as flickers of images rolls behind his eyes._ _

__It wasn't ink, nor paint. It was blood._ _

__"Kieren?" he says slowly, his pupils penetrating the dark mark on his sheet._ _

__"Hm?" Simon barely hears the response through the cluttering and banging, not to mention the agonising scream of the clothes hangers against the railing as Kieren swooshes then back and forth._ _

__"What's this?" he is sitting closer to the once sacred pillow and finally Kieren pokes his head out of the closet._ _

__"Eh?"_ _

__The Irish man simply nods in the direction of the object, his eyes still fixed on the stain._ _

__"I know you and sleep aren't the best of friends but I think even you can recognise a pillow," Kieren scoffs in that slightly teasing, slightly sarcastic way, but he stands and smiles in confusion as he plants himself down on the bed._ _

__"Blood," he utters, "Kieren, that's blood on your pillow,"_ _

__Recognition flashes through the Kieren's white eyes and his eyebrows twitch, "Oh that," he says, "Nothin' really, just the odd noseblood, must have forgot to change that pillowcase,"_ _

__He laughs but the laugh is not returned as Simon looks at him with concern- well, that's not unusual, but more concern at least._ _

__"How long's that been going on for?" he questions, quietly trying to keep his emotions in check._ _

__"Couple of days," Kieren shrugs and he reaches over to pull the pillowcase off, mainly to give his mind something else to focus on._ _

__"You didn't mention it," Simon remarks. Bitterly- no, but with increasing nerves in the undertone._ _

__Kieren quirks up an eyebrow. Simon had more than his fair share of secrets, bloody hell, the man had half the country's share of secrets._ _

__"It's nothin' to worry about," he shakes his head with a tugging smile, "Stop scowling at me and come over 'ere,"_ _

__Simon frowns further, hesitating visibly, before as always, giving in and scooting over to sit closer._ _

__"I'm fine," he whispers and he grabs Simon's woolly collar between his trembling fingers._ _

__"I'm fine," he repeats against Simon's lips and it sounds as though he is trying to convince himself._ _

__

__It happens in the middle of 'Giving-Back' and Simon swears the fear inside of him is a cannibal, gnawing on his insides with a passion._ _

__They were weeding and keeping the grounds nice with different arrays of flowers and it is all so crappy but Kieren gets on with it._ _

__He stands to empty his fistfull of weeds into the plastic bag being passed between the chain of orange bibs but immediately he is back on the ground._ _

__Simon only hears the thud as he collapses and immediately he is on hand, wide eyed, panicked, repeating Kieren's name as his frenzied hands touch the other's face and neck. Hoping, praying he will wake._ _

__And of course, he does. Seconds later his eyes flicker open and he frowns at the small gathering of PDS-sufferers circled around him before he notices Simon._ _

__"Thank God," he can see Simon mouth as the others smile and disperse, returning to their chores at once. But Simon stays by his side, helping him into a seated position._ _

__He wants to bombard Kieren with questions, fire out his fears like the heavy balls that pop from cannons. But he doesn't. In his head it would be a relief to the cannon, sure, but those balls would potentially crush their targets._ _

__"I'm okay," Kieren rubs his temple, noticing the man's frantic expression. So Simon takes it to be true._ _

__They don't return to their work but instead skive off and head back to the bungalow._ _

__Kieren is still a bit wobbly on his feet and Simon walks alongside, resisting the urge to just scoop the blonde up and carry him home._ _

__The doors are locked so Simon has to root around and fish out his key from those deep coat pockets and Kieren is left wondering what the hell else he keeps in there._ _

__He would say that Amy's ghost still roamed the small structure, but that would imply she was a lost soul, mourning her unfinished life and aching to go back, and that just didn't do the wonderful lady any justice._ _

__Kieren would say whatever afterlife Amy got, she would be making the most of it, and it was her bright spirit that he could feel as he joined Simon in the kitchen._ _

__The dark haired man says nothing as he opens the fridge and takes out a jar, passing it into Kieren's grasp._ _

__"What's this for?" he says as his eyes settle over the homemade medication._ _

__"Just a precaution," Simon shrugs, his face a mask._ _

__"I've got the proper stuff," Kieren tries to pass it back and they end up bickering over it, shoving the jar back and forth like an endless game of pass-the-parcel._ _

__"Just give it a go," Simon drones, "Better than that other shit,"_ _

__"You need it," he snaps back and as a sudden wave of weakness whooshes through his body, he pushes the jar towards Simon and it slips from his fingers._ _

__Smashing onto the kitchen tiles between them, soaking the floor and up to their ankles with the medicine._ _

__His jaw drops in horror and he presses the back of his hand against his mouth to repress whatever sound might emerge._ _

__It doesn't work. "I'm sorry," he croaks and he looks like a broken bird, "I'm so sorry,"_ _

__Simon reaches out and holds him close, his heart breaking with each shake and tremble under his hands, "I can make more, promise,"_ _

__Whatever Kieren replies is muffled and indecipherable, so Simon gently pulls his face away from the fabric of his jumper and brushes away his fringe._ _

__"It's fine," he whispers soothingly and he just wraps his arms around Kieren tighter until the little earthquakes in his body die out._ _

__

__Kieren tracks Phillip down the way one would creep up on a easily spooked cat, slowly and cautiously; one wrong move and he will spring into the hedges._ _

__"Just brought around some scones," he says as he enters the sitting room, one of his hands raise innocently, as if to say he comes in peace. No long talks about If He Is Okay, because he's not._ _

__Bags line his eyes and Kieren knows how hard it must have been to have Amy die right in his arms. Of course Kieren knew. So he kept an eye on Phillip, even months after the tragic day._ _

__"Thanks," he nods awkwardly, fiddling with the remote control._ _

__Kieren hovers by the door before he moves to sit beside his friend, knowing how uncomfortable it made Phillip to have someone standing over him._ _

__"I would tell you they taste good, but I don't really know," he breathes out a laugh as he hands the plastic box to Phillip._ _

__"I'm sure they are," he tries out a polite smile and it seems to work, "Thanks," his eyes shoot down as he stares at his fidgeting hands._ _

__"Phillip?"_ _

__They both almost jump as the tentative moment is broken by a loud voice from the back hall._ _

__"Did you get that shopping done for me?" Shirley calls as she opens the door and beams, "Oh hello Kieren, how are you doing?"_ _

__"Good thank you, brought scones," he points awkwardly to the box Phillip is holding and Shirley smiles brighter, "Oh that's lovely, very generous," she gushes, patting his on the shoulder as he heads into the kitchen._ _

__"Can we talk?" he says once she is out of sight and Phillip looks both terrified and cornered._ _

__"In your room?" he continues and Phillip nods once and stands. It is obvious he won't be doing much of the talking, but he will listen if Kieren needs that._ _

__Phillip's room is almost just how he remembered it. Although it had been several years since he had been in it, the notice board with Phillip's many lists was still going strong._ _

__"Do you want to..." Phillip waved towards a cardboard box with messy, permanent marker sprawled to read 'Games' and Kieren smiles widely and nods._ _

__It feels oddly familiar and deeply nostalgic to sit on Phillip's bed in front of the TV as he fumbles with a dusty games console and he can almost imagine Rick lying alongside them._ _

__Many random days in the year were spent in here. The three were closer than ever and would just lie back and battle each other, taking turns with the only two controllers available._ _

__"Blasted thing," Phillip mutters under his breath as he shakes the old machine._ _

__Phillip surely knew about him and Rick, he had bound to. There was a stage in the trio's friendship where he was certain they could all read one another without the need for words._ _

__It had been easy so it had, relaxed silences, laughing so hard they got pains in their sides, conversations about the strangest of things._ _

__But it had all went down hill when Rick began to avoid Kieren a bit, start drinking a little more, and talk about girls a hell of a lot._ _

__He was sure it was a front, for his Dad, but it was a lie told often enough that Rick almost believed it._ _

__(They hadn't kissed. They weren't in love.)_ _

__Peaceful silences grew tense and Phillip was in the dark about it all. Rick would ditch their game days for the pub and the indestructible friendship between the three fizzled out._ _

__Sitting here with Phillip as the machine whirs and coughs, Kieren hopes he will have the chance to reconnect with his old friend._ _

__"What was it you wanted to talk about?" Phillip asks as his eyes sit fixed and shaded on the screen._ _

__Kieren's thoughts are diluted as the ancient game rolls onto the screen in messy pixels and floods of nostalgia. He laughs. "Can I be player one?"_ _

__Phillip narrows his eyes, "No way," he lets out a light chuckle himself and that is good enough for now, before tossing the second controller into Kieren's lap._ _

__He forgets what he wanted to speak with Phillip about that day, but for now it doesn't matter, he lies back and stabs at the buttons with his thumbs, allowing himself to become enveloped in the past._ _

__

__It is in the dead of night when Kieren notices the leaflet poking out from under his bed, hidden by mismatched socks and crumpled up pages; drawings that had gone badly._ _

__Signs of going rabid. Written in black and white and Kieren's still blood felt cold._ _

__Involuntary trembling-- checked. Nosebleeds-- checked. Memory loss-- checked._ _

__The sheet slips from his hand and falls gracefully to the carpet. He watches it fall and sits slowly back down. If he was fully alive he was sure he would have passed out._ _

__So, he was going rabid. He would turn back into that-- that thing, that animal; a killer. More people would suffer under his hands and the guilt of their blood had stained him once, he wouldn't let it happen again._ _

__Part of him considers just running to the bungalow, begging and pleading Simon for a cure and to help him. But Simon wasn't going to think he was going rabid, he would tell him to sleep it off._ _

__Then before he knows it, he would go rabid and kill his entire family._ _

__The more drastic side of him considers pissing Gary off. Pissing him off so much that he just went ahead and shot him. But that thought goes as quickly as it comes._ _

__No. He would stay locked in his room and he wouldn't come down until he was fixed._ _

__He's fought it once, he could fight it again, couldn't he?_ _

__The next morning he tells his parents he loves them and they barely manage to swallow their shock. With a shaky smile he tells Jem he loves her as she passes him on the landing. She shoots him a funny look and half laughs._ _

__His eyes feel heavy from lack of sleep and exhaustion cripples his bones. They relax as he sinks into his bed, sighing._ _

__The shaking is worse and he is on his second nosebleed of the day._ _

__Absolutely certain the bedroom door is locked, he grabs the rope (from that one time he tried to add rope textures to his painting) and ties his hands together tightly._ _

__It takes a bit of effort and fumbling but eventually he is fixed to the frame of his bed. Using a hard tug, with every ounce of strength he has, he pulls on the rope._ _

__Thankfully it doesn't move and he prays when he is in a rabid state, these ropes will do the same job._ _

__But it turns out he hadn't quite thought this plan out one-hundred percent._ _

__"Kieren?" he can hear Sue knocking on his door at some stage that evening, "Is everything okay?"_ _

__The door handle is moving up and down and he can feel their panic. He supposes that kind of fear never really goes away and guilt stabs at his tummy._ _

__"I'm fine," he coughs out, and he feels anything but, exhausted and breathless from fighting the trapped feeling invading his chest._ _

__He wants out. Deep, human, survival instincts claw from within him and he wants the ropes to break._ _

__Another knock and it's Steve. He repeats the affirmative and says the same for Jem. He's just tired; getting some rest; painting._ _

__Why is the door locked? He prefers it that way. Whether they are believing him or not is another story._ _

__"Kieren, Simon is here," his mother says and his eyes fly open. "Tell him I'm busy," he manages to splutter but his throat is too tight and he is too far away and she doesn't hear him._ _

__Oh shit. Oh fucking shit. The key is in the lock and the door handle is moving and Kieren struggles, begging the ropes to give out, but they don't and Simon steps forward._ _

__His eyes are wide and his jaw drops just a tad. (Only God knows what he must be thinking). But Kieren is too busy panicking to be embarrassed yet._ _

__Don't come any closer, he wants to scream as he may be turning at that very second._ _

__Simon grabs at his thrashing body and is speaking in soothing tones he can barely hear over his loud breathing._ _

__"I've got you," he whispers as he holds Kieren's face between his hands._ _

__"I can't get out," the words splutter up his throat and he coughs on them, trapped hands clutching at Simon's jumper to feel something, to know he is still alive._ _

__His nails dig in and clutch at the fabric as desperate pants and whimpers escape his throat involuntarily._ _

__"Here, I'll help, it's okay," he soothes and Kieren latches onto the words through his hyperventilating._ _

__Simon pulls away despite the other's panicked groans and pleas, but he has to search around and find something in the dim light of the bedroom, before one of his family comes up._ _

__He finds a knife stuffed in the back of a drawer and Kieren practically chokes out a sob._ _

__"No, no, no," he pleads but Simon slips a hand over his eyes, hushes him, whispers comforting things as he slices away the ropes._ _

__It feels weird to have that same knife he knows Kieren killed himself with, in his hand, and Simon quickly shoves it in a drawer, feeling nauseous all of a sudden._ _

__"It's okay," he gushes as he pulls Kieren to his chest; finally free with the broken restraints falling to the carpet, "I've got you,"_ _

__"I'm going rabid," he croaks, hitching breaths of relief spurting out of his hollow lungs; hands feeling every inch of the soft jumper hanging from Simon's chest._ _

__"What?" Simon pulls back and strokes his cheeks. "The leaflet, I have all the signs, I'm going rabid Simon!" his voice breaks and he's almost screaming._ _

__"You're not going rabid you dufus," Simon breathes a low, rumbling laugh, but he holds the red haired man tighter._ _

__"Explain this," he holds out a hand, violently trembling in the moonlight. Simon watches it and his white eyes look fearful for just a second._ _

__"I don't know," he says honestly, "But it'll be okay-- it'll be fine," he moves his hands so that one is resting on the small of Kieren's back and the other on the nape of his neck._ _

__"If I go rabid," he starts and his voice is as heavy as the rain in a storm; his thoughts just as dark, "Can you kill me?"_ _

__It hits a little too close to home for Simon and he stiffens. "No," he half growls._ _

__"Please Simon," he says and it is hoarse, "I don't want to hurt anyone," it's honest and raw but Simon shuts his eyes because maybe that will block out the cutting words._ _

__"Please," he says once more and Simon lets out a shuddering breath, "Maybe," he whispers, "I'll think about it,"_ _

__But he knows he won't. Never shall he taint his mind with those thoughts once more. No hair on Kieren's head will be harmed, if that means keeping him rabid in the bungalow then so be it._ _

__Sue calls them down for tea and if anyone notices the distraught and exhausted expressions on their faces, they don't comment._ _

__

__A late evening movie is flickering on the TV and Sue and Steve slope off to watch it while Jem texts violently on her mobile._ _

__Kieren follows Simon up to his room as he feigns getting something. "Will you be okay?" Simon asks in hushed tones once the door is quietly closed._ _

__Almost as if ignoring him, Kieren curls his fingers around the strands of dark hair behind the other's ears, white eyes meeting white eyes and lips meeting in a tentative embrace._ _

__"You'll be safe walking back, won't you?"_ _

__"Stop changing the subject," Simon mumbles against his mouth and Kieren just rubs his arm. "It's dark out, look after yourself,"_ _

__Simon squeezes his hand once more and Kieren watches him walk back to the bungalow from his front door. When he is at a far enough distance away, Kieren turns back into his warmly lit kitchen and almost jumps at the sight of Jem watching him with her arms folded._ _

__"Where were you all day?" she is watching him with that stare-- the one that seems to look right into his mind and tosses around all of his lies._ _

__"Exhausted," he replies and he rubs his forehead, yawning as if for emphasis. She rolls her eyes. Of course she doesn't believe it._ _

__"I was- dead tired me," he snorts and that gets a twitch out of her hard expression._ _

__Only for a second though, before she moves away, watching him carefully. Kieren supposes trust is one of the most fragile connections there is. How easy it was to shatter and how difficult it is to rebuild._ _

__Returning to his room, he pulls out a sheet of paper and figures he should write a decent goodbye this time 'round. Until he catches himself on and crumples up the page with determination._ _

__He wasn't dying for Christ's sake. He was just turning rabid._ _

__

__It happens on such a horrendously boring day that it should have been illegal. Sue was slouched over an ironing board; Steve stirring and mixing and complaining about how the cooking was burning; Jem, half asleep on the armchair while Kieren sat on the sofa, sketching something that should have been a cat, but fuck if his hands would stop shaking._ _

__It had been a few days since the incident and Simon was due his evening visit. A place already sat for him at the table._ _

__His voice sounds from the other room and Kieren represses a smile. Until he realises this Simon doesn't sound like his Simon. The Irish accent that is usually so composed when greeting his folk, sounds almost-- gleeful?_ _

__"Turn on to BBC news," he almost grins as his head pokes through the sitting room. "Hello to you too," Kieren mumbles back, albiet amused, while he fishes out the remote and does so._ _

__Wild, frenzied headlines whir onto the screen. BREAKING NEWS._ _

__"Scientists are studying the phenomenan and more news will be reported in due time," Kieren mutters as he reads the wild letters sliding across the bottom of the screen, "I don't understand,"_ _

__"Kelly Jay reports from North London where PDS-sufferer Daniel Craig claims his Warming-Up occured,"_ _

__"Thanks John, I'm here with Daniel. Can you describe what happened to you for us, sir?" the reporter on screen tilts a microphone towards a man, shaken up and visibly trembling all over._ _

__"I've been getting the symptoms for a little while now," he just about croaks, "-My heart," he babbles at the reporter, "I-It's beating. It starting beating!"_ _

__The voiceover drowns out his words, "-And Daniel is not the only PDS-Sufferer to be cured,"_ _

__If Kieren wasn't in such a stupor, he would have noticed Simon flinch at the word 'cured'._ _

__"Many, all over the world are reporting symptoms of shaking, nosebleeds, and memory loss- common signs of rabidity only to have their hearts begin to pump again,"_ _

__At this stage Kieren is kneeling on the ground. He doesn't know quite how he got there but Simon is by his side, holding him together. Sue is crying. Steve has had to abandon dinner to sit on the edge of the sofa. While Jem stares at the screen with a dropped jaw._ _

__"Scientists are baffled and we aren't quite sure what is happening here," the man states as he scratches at his mustache._ _

__Even he looks flabbergasted._ _

__"I'm not going rabid," Kieren croaks as his hands grip at Simons elbows; he doesn't care who's watching._ _

__Sue lets out a choked sob and Steve is right by her side, speaking softly and the relief is palpable in the air._ _

__Jem shakes off her shock and stares around the room at the emotional wrecks that surround the sitting room. She stands up and grabs the landline._ _

__When basically everyone turns to gaze quizzically, she rolls her eyes, "Ordering pizza. Dinner's gone to shit and I'm starving," she drones, stomping out into the kitchen to make the call._ _

__While everyone really knows the front is just a disguise. Kieren coming back to life or not, she doesn't want to be seen as soft._ _

__

__After that day, Simon becomes obsessed with the coverage of PDS-sufferers, 'Warming-Up'. He watches almost every news report, reads every magazine and newspaper in the perimeter and even dips his toes into the internet._ _

__It wasn't a surprise he became so fascinated; they all were. But he had an addictive personality by nature._ _

__He watched Kieren almost intensely, as though at any second his heart would beat and that expression of ecstasy would shoot on his face like it had to so many. So they waited._ _

__That was until Simon stumbled across some new developments in the apparent miracle._ _

__A lot of the PDS-folk were not surviving the Warming-Up stage, whether too weak for their bodies to cope or being frail enough not to withstand the changes._ _

__While others had cardiac arrests within the first couple of heartbeats, some decrepit hearts just gave out as soon as they started. It filled Simon with a sick sense of dread and a bitingly vicious fear as he read about people simply dying once more- out of pure shock._ _

__He lies awake at night for hours and hours until it rolls into months and years, and he finds he has been lying awake worrying for decades._ _

__It is on this particular night, he tosses and turns in his bed, tangling himself up in the sheets and shoving them away in frustration._ _

__3:47am. The blue light of his alarm glows dimly on his face._ _

__After finally drifting off after an angry wrestle with his blankets, his eyes open upon a very different scene._ _

__Kieren falling onto his knees, with wheezing breaths and clutching his chest. Simon is rushing to get to him, scooping the boy up in his arms as he holds him and they are both crying. His heart beats once, shaking the ground and it just seems so damn loud. Before Kieren is going limp in his arms and Simon is screaming- begging for help. Can't somebody do something?_ _

__Simon jolts awake and a thud vibrates his body as he falls off the edge of his bed in a trembling, panting mess._ _

__4:02am. Simon wants to scream._ _

__

__It isn't just the nightmares and sleeplessness either, he find he has taken up sleepwaking and his conscious hours aren't up to much either._ _

__After several hours of lying awake in bed with gentle, apparently relaxing music, drifting from his old radio, Simon finally gets some shut-eye._ _

__(His body has other plans)._ _

__The next thing he knows he is lying in Kieren's driveway, under the dark Roarton sky, completely drenched from the freaking puddle he is lying in._ _

__A familiar figure is helping him up and taking him inside their house so he goes along with it because he is just so tired._ _

__Worrying about Kieren had started to drain him._ _

__

__He wakes up with a hazy head that dips in and out of consciousness and it vaguely reminds him of waking from a high. Cloudy recollections of the night before tinker at his mind but he can't let them in._ _

__That is until he realises he isn't at his own house, nor sleeping in his own bed. And the painted face of Rick Macy is staring across from him. Suffice to say he, himself almost collapses in shock._ _

__Kieren creaks open the door just a tad and smiles, "Thought I heard something," he fully enters the room and takes a seat at the bottom of his own bed, "What happened last night?"_ _

__Simon almost finds this funny, "You tell me," and Kieren does. "Someone decided to take a nap on the lawn last night," he teases. Which doesn't surprise Simon as much as it should._ _

__He found he had been waking up in all sorts of places around the bungalow recently, but Kieren's yard was a first._ _

__"Sleepwalking," he admits after a moment's hesitation; Kieren's eyes glow with intuiation, "What's bothering you?" he asks quietly. Best not wake the rest of the Walkers._ _

__"You, mainly," he quips with a breathy chuckle causing Kieren to roll his eyes._ _

__"Charming," he almost laughs. But after a bit the smile fades, "What about me?"_ _

__Simon glances at him once before darting back to a space below his chin, "Just losin' you, I guess. Don't want you dyin' on me,"_ _

__"What are you on about?" the brown-eyed man practically snorts, "I'm not dying, you daft thing,"_ _

__"What if your heart- what if it stops?" he looks frantic and for a second Kieren just wants to cuddle him, "Let's not run before we can walk, eh?" he moves closer so he can give Simon's arm a squeeze, "Haven't you heard all about those people, who came back-"_ _

__"Sure," he interupts with a smile, "Course I've heard bits and bobs, but what about the other ninety-percent that are fine?"_ _

__"A risk is a risk," Simon is not going to be convinced, it is practically obvious. He would worry himself sick over this._ _

__"Always glass half empty, aren't you?" Kieren rolls his eyes and Simon gives him a light kick from under the covers._ _

__"Ouch," he half yelps, as laughter tumbles freely from his vocal chords. Before he freezes in a spellbound shock._ _

__Pain. That was pain._ _

__"What? What is it? What's wrong?" Simon gushes, truly terrified by the stunned expression on the other's face. "I-I felt that," he managed to stutter out._ _

__"I am feeling," his eyes are wide as though he truly cannot comprehend the sensation in his side. Which he can't. Fuck. It felt like his nerve endings were on fire._ _

__"You are," Simon utters. Fear gone for a moment because damn, Kieren is moving closer towards being fully living._ _

__With a sudden, jerky movement, somewhat akin to their first lip lock, Kieren grabs the back of his dark hair and rams their mouths together in a curious, excited kiss. His mouth feels like it's on fire and he can taste something ever so distantly, like only a single taste bud had awoken and it can't decipher the new feeling on its own._ _

__Whatever it is, it must be the taste of Simon. He was sure his stomach would flip at the very idea._ _

__"Dear God," Simon mumbles as Kieren breathes heavily against his dampened lips._ _

__Dear God, indeed._ _

__

__Simon is still worried, but the sleepwalking stops after that morning. He tries to focus on all of the things Kieren will be able to experience when he is fully alive and that soothes his chaotic soul for a bit. He wants his partner to have a better living life than the last time around._ _

__After picking up a call from the man himself, he agrees to pop around to the Walker home and is quite surprised to find Phillip hovering in the sitting room as well._ _

__"Thought we could go for a walk," he grins mischieviously and Simon's mouth opens and closes like a fish. He doesn't know Phillip that well after all. "Sure," he agrees._ _

__Because he will tag along too, if that's what Kieren wants._ _

__The air smelt sweet and golden rays caressed their skin. Oddly enough it seemed like a beautiful day- strange for the usually drizzly Roarton._ _

__They walked. As planned. At first Phillip was stiff (stiffer) with this strange other person, making Simon slightly wary (warier) but as time went along, they bonded through shared deadpan glances at the more dumber jokes Kieren added in and occasional half smile._ _

__Of course they would find themselves at Amy's grave. There was no other outcome._ _

__"It's like she's summoned us," Simon quips in a low tone and the other two breath a laugh._ _

__Almost as if Amy had broken the ice, the three begin to talk. About silly stuff at first. About Amy. About grief. About themselves._ _

__Simon finds he had more in common with Phillip than he thought. They had both been quite serious and solemn as children, to an extent it trailed into their adult lives and somehow the idea that Phillip was also deemed strange or weird as a kid, meant Simon could relate to him in a way. Made Phillip feel more human to him._ _

__Kieren watched with a secret grin as he sat knees to chest beside Amy's grave, the other two engaged in an almost deep conversation about race car driving._ _

__Deep down, he felt like he was forming a new trio. Just like it was before._ _

__Only this time he hoped the friendships didn't fizzle out and die and the relationship didn't end in blood spilled on a cave floor._ _

__"That Phillip," Simon began on their way back to Kieren's after dropping the living man off at his for dinner, "He's alright,"_ _

__"Yeah?" Kieren had to duck to hide the smile that began to snake across his face. "Mmhm," Simon uttered, looking ahead until he caught a glimpse of Kieren's face._ _

__"Don't look so smug," he half mutters and the other man only grins wider._ _

__They keep walking, a tiny distance between their shoulders and for a second, Kieren is tempted to grab his hand and worm his fingers into the spaces that fit so snugly. Instantly though, he stops himself._ _

__Are they a hand holding couple? Would Simon pull away or laugh?_ _

__He can't imagine Simon laughing in his face at the intimate display, but he can't imagine Simon interlocking their hands and skipping together through the streets._ _

__He bit on the tissue of his cheek gently as he pondered whether or not he should wrangle up some courage and go for it, reveling in the strange sensation of awakening nerves in his mouth._ _

__Just go for it. Grab his hand and be done with it. He tries to give himself a pep talk but it seems his inner voice is lacking the motivation._ _

__"Wish Amy had've been here today," he is pulled back by Simon's quiet confession and that is all the inspiration he needs to hook their pinky fingers together. (Baby steps, after all)_ _

__"I know. I thought so too," he sighs and part of him is also sighing in relief that Simon didn't pull his little finger back, "I don't think that will ever really change,"_ _

__"Think Phillip's coping?" Simon asks and glances at him as they walk; little fingers hooked together. "No," Kieren replies and it's honest._ _

__"We'll look out for him," he continues and Simon nods. They both know that even months, years after a death, that the pain of the grief doesn't go away._ _

__They arrive at the door to the Walker household and Simon falters when he reaches the yard, breaking contact with Kieren as he moves to the door._ _

__The redhead stops, turning and gazing at him with a puzzled expression. Simon shrugs and raises his eyebrows slightly nervously._ _

__"What?"_ _

__"I haven't been invited inside," he rubs the back of his neck a little bashfully._ _

__Despite his wish to remain blank-faced, with a roll of the eyes, Kieren breaks into a fond smile and pulls him in by his long coat sleeve. Muttering, "This man, God help me," under his breath as he does so._ _

__"Kier?" Sue calls from kitchen and the man himself calls back a "Yeah, it's us," before flopping down into a seat at the table and idly grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl._ _

__He was halfway through peeling the yellow fruit before Simon has his coat shrugged off and is stopping him with a grab of the wrist from taking a bite._ _

__"Oh yeah!" his eyes light up like beacons with the realisation of what he had almost done and he practically laughs._ _

__"I'm flipping starving," he admits and Simon lowers himself into the adjacent chair, "Maybe it would have been worth it,"_ _

__"I'm sure nobody else would agree," Simon mutters with that half-grin of his._ _

__"Wonder if this means something?" he shrugs as his finger traces random patterns on the table. Simon watches him with a mixture of curiosity and reverence. "S'pose it means your body's coming back soon,"_ _

__His voice is casual, indifferent, his eyes however, are a completely different story._ _

__"I don't know," Kieren whispers and his hand hovers over his cold, silent chest, as though he expects it to start thumping at any second._ _

__

__He didn't notice it at first, when his heart started to pump. You would kind of think that would be something you would notice, but no, the change was so slight and subtle that he just continued with his daily business._ _

__Until he arrived at 'Give Back' to find the other PDS-sufferers were on strike. After all, if their kind were becoming living again, this was surely all pointless._ _

__Kieren didn't stick around to find out, grabbing Simon's arm without a single word and steering him away, throwing their orange bibs behind them and not staying to watch how they caught in the breeze and fluttered like two flags._ _

__At first Simon didn't notice how fast Kieren was walking- after all, he was always a pace in front of the other, but when Simon noticed he practically had to do a light jog to keep up, that something was when he knew something was wrong._ _

__"What have I done?" he half teases. The other half is quite serious. That little bit of insecurity nips away at him._ _

__Kieren stops and Simon wished he had have used indicators as he almost crashes into his back._ _

__His eyes are full of hysteria and his whole demenour is off. Something about his breathing. It- it sounds almost desperate, wheezy...necessary._ _

__He grabs at Simon's fluffy coat collar and breathes, deep and fast because he is certain he is suffocating. There isn't enough oxygen in the world. His head is dizzy, the room is spinning, and fuck, every cell in his body is stinging._ _

__Then he feels the pulse in his tightly clenched fists._ _

__Thumping weakly. Hesistantly. And Simon must have spidey-senses because he places two fingers to Kieren's neck but feels nothing but the pressure._ _

__Silently Kieren guides his head down to his chest and moves away the layers of his jackets. Sure enough, a smile breaks out over Simon's face as a barely even there, heartbeat beats gently at his eardrum._ _

__"You're-" he croaks, uncharacteristically tongue-tied._ _

__"Yeah," Kieren agrees, his voice cracking at the end as his fingers comb through Simon's dark strands of hair, "I am,"_ _

__

__It isn't until a couple of weeks later that his body begins to behave like a properly living one. After a few trips to the hospital and a few fly-in visits with Shirley, he is properly assessed and is now legally alive._ _

__And his hunger, his now raging appetite is getting worse now that the daily shots have been stopped._ _

__He had to start off slowly and work other kinds of food in gradually-- as the pamphlet had said. So it was basically like going back to the start._ _

__They were sitting at the table when Simon first saw Kieren eat. Tentatively spooning in forks of mushed-up banana and he laughed. He laughed so hard- if he could, his eyes would have been tearing up._ _

__"Shut the fuck up," Kieren groans and despite how hard he tries to hide it, his pale complexion is burning a little pink at the cheeks._ _

__Simon's laughing fades into a fond chuckle and he simply watches with wonder._ _

__"Laugh all you want, this'll be you soon," he sneers teasingly and gulps down some more, too focused on reveling on the sweet new taste to notice the dark look that clouds Simon's face._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love if you dropped me a comment/critique/suggestion/tip!
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!! :) x


	2. Chapter 2

"What are you doing?" Kieren is laughing tendly when Simon strides into the kitchen, armed with bulging carrier bags.

"Sue says you like cake," he mumbles innocently as though that substitutes for a decent enough answer. "I do," Kieren raises his eyebrows at the other's back suspiciously.

"I'm making cakes," he shrugs and the cupboards rattle as he clumsily fights off an avalange of bowls before flicking through a tattered, stained cooking book.

It might have been the hpeless look on his face that makes Kieren laugh more, "Need a little help?" he murmurs as his hands magically find Simon's hips and -whoops!- his head is on his shoulder, looking over as he reads the ingredients.

"I can manage," he says stubbornly, but there's a glimmer of a smile there. "Oh yeah? Since when did you become Jamie Oliver?" Kieren teases and his hands move from tentatively resting on his hips to flattening against his abdomen.

"I know my way around a wooden spoon," he shoots back and Kieren's face goes practically devilish. "I'll bet you do," he says in a deep, taunting tone and Simon looks like he could blush.

"What are you making?" he changes the subject with a laugh, knowing full well he had embarrassed the poor man, slowly moving his arms to hug around Simon's middle section.

"Everything you can imagine," he smiles, admittedly finding it difficult to manoeuvre the bowls and such with Kieren leeching onto his back. Not that he was going to complain about that!

"Really?"

"Maybe," Simon half chuckles and Kieren hugs onto him tighter. He was actually starting to feel the temperature of Simon's skin more nowadays and boy, was he cold.

"Did you like baking? You know, before--" he eventually breaks away from Simon, realising how difficult it would be for him to cook with Kieren attached, and knowing rightly he wouldn't tell him to clear off.

Simon smiles and it seems a little sad, "Yeah," he says, "I used to help me mum when she would bake cakes," he looks down, focusing on the eggs he is beating.

"That sounds nice," Kieren clears his throat and smiles genuinely. "It was," Simon smiles back at the egg mixture, "I didn't do much mind you, I mostly just watched and did the occasional stir,"

Kieren laughs as he hops up to sit on the corner of the counter, watching Simon as he carefully pours in some sugar.

He didn't know how Simon's mother had died, besides from it happening during the Rising. He did know it wasn't something Simon was ready to talk about. And that was okay.

"You hungry?" Simon asks as he lays out several circular cake tins. Kieren raises his eyebrows a little incredulously and Simon simply smiles innocently in return.

"Absolutely,"

 

Somehow he was more tired than he thought he was, after lying on the sofa to watch a bit of TV while Simon cooked, he had drifted off into a deep sleep.

A blanket was hugging his body and it hadn't have been there when he fell asleep.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he hears loud cursing from the bungalow's kitchen and bangs and crashes of pots and pans.

Almost instantly he is up. A weird smell in the air. After so long he can't match the smell up with anything.

"Simon?" he rubs his eyes in the doorway and the man looks sheepish. "Sorry," he says immediately.

"What's wrong?" he walks tentatively into the -completely wrecked- kitchen, the sleepiness fading fast upon noticing the destruction. "It's not working," Simon says almost desperately as he kneels and collects another bowl of a mixture.

"I can't even follow simple instructions," his voice is rising with distress, "I fucked it up," the spoon in his hand is moving at such a rapid pace that only highlights his slight hysteria. "Just like I fuck everything up," he laughs bitterly.

"What are you on about?" Kieren's eyebrows knit together with confusion as he slowly approaches the other man.

"Everything!" he exclaims and his white eyes are wild, "I always find a way to ruin just about everything,"

He turns away and he is adding flour to the bowl with such hastiness that half of it ends up in a puff of a cloud that settles in his face and hair.

"Don't," Kieren says quietly, finding that the thoughts hit too close to home, "You know that's not true,"

Simon laughs again and this time it comes out as a hoarse broken thing, his hands angrily fiddling with the knobs of the cooker.

"Stop that," Kieren tugs his frustrated form away from it but Simon resists slightly and continues twisting at the buttons.

"Why are you doing this?" Kieren says and it's gentle, cracking Simon almost at once.

"I just want to do this right," he groans and his hands find his flour-dusted hair and rub his face, "I want to actually do something for you,"

"You do, all the time," Kieren tries to coax a smile out of him.

"I want to do good for once," he continues and the tension in every one of his muscles doesn't remove, even as Kieren wiggles his hands around his waist, "To just stop failing you,"

"I don't deserve someone like you," he mutters against Kieren's shoulder as his head is led down. "I really don't,"

"That's bullshit," Kieren snaps back which is a bit of a contast to the warm embrace he has enveloped Simon in, "Stupid talk,"

Among the burnt cakes and mess, Kieren notices a piece of card; a ULA message sprawled across it. He doesn't quite know why, but that sticks in his mind.

It certainly wasn't there when he left the kitchen- Simon in a great mood. But now it is and everything had gone downhill.

Everyone has their bad days, he supposes.

So he gives Simon a couple of gentle, reassuring kisses on the lips; getting only cautious, nervous returns, and then he rolls up his sleeves and they clean.

Elbow deep in dishes and scraping burnt cake into the bin, it isn't very romantic, but with the earlier episode a thing of the past, they share small smiles and a comfortable silence. And they make it romantic.

 

"Why don't we start it off easier this time?" Kieren shakes a box of children's baking cupcakes when he returns from the shop after finishing the cleaning.

"Sorry," Simon looks guilty, looking up at him from the sofa. "You should be," Kieren taunts and fiddles with Simon's collar, "I was bloody starving,"

"Sorry," he repeats, not quite buying into his lighthearted joking. "I'm only teasing you, you numpty," he kisses Simon's cheek sloppily with a laugh and that gets a smile.

"Come on Gordon Ramsey," he holds out his hand and shakes the box once more, "These cakes won't bake themselves,"

 

It probably was a bad idea, but he didn't think about it at the time.

See the water didn't look cold per se. As a matter of fact the sun was shining making it glitter. Oh how deceiving that was.

Kieren wasn't exactly the best swimmer in the world but it was shallow and he had felt so damn hot. They had been in the car all day, driving to Philip's politics thing in the city and the little river looked so inviting.

Somehow on the drive back they had stumbled across this lovely little place with shady evergreen trees and grass so green the sunlight made it glow. Nobody was around so they figured why not take the food out and eat outside of the stuffy vehicle.

It had been a great idea, with Kieren practically wolfing down sandwiches at lightning speed; Philip giving him odd looks, because his friend was alive again. And that was kind of weird. While Simon lay surprisingly relaxed across the soft grass, plucking at the grass and tossing petals off daisies, watching as the white grains drift with the breeze.

Until Kieren had his bright idea and it was so impulsive, nobody could have stopped him. He practically shed most of his clothes like a skin before plunging into the river.

It had been cold. Oh so fucking cold.

They heard the shriek first, still a little in shock from the fact that Kieren had basically half stripped and disappeared, meaning it took a minute to register the sound.

Then he was back again, dripping and teeth-chattering and looking oh-so-awkward in his sparse amount of clothing and they could barely hear his curses over their sudden earthquake of laughter.

It didn't subside and Kieren angrily tugged his clothes back on over his soaked body and while Simon couldn't stop himself from laughing, his eyes never left the other.

That was until he noticed Kieren looking a little peaky and figured, shit, he is alive now. His heart pumps and his lungs need air and he was much too cold. So Simon panicked.

He rushed back to the car and got two coats, shoving them over the red-haired man's shoulders and while Kieren, teeth-chattering together, accepted the heat, it didn't expel the sudden wave of embarrassment that swept over him.

It certainly hadn't have been the brightest of his ideas.

While on the drive back Kieren thought about what an idiot he was, Simon's mind was preoccupied on the notion that perhaps if Philip had not also been there, maybe Kieren wouldn't have held back on shedding every layer.

When they reach Roarton at last, somehow the car ends up by the graveyard and the next thing they know they are visiting Amy.

They always seem to end up doing that. As Amy made such a big impact in all of their lives, it made sense for them to find their way back to her, like lost souls.

Kieren imagines that the four of them would have been a great group of friends if she hadn't have died.

Philip was doing better. Kieren hoped anyway. They took him out a lot. Walks, shopping, it didn't matter.

The black bags under his eyes were fading so Kieren took that as a good sign.

 

"Simon?" Kieren calls from the bedroom and Simon stops pouring the boiling water into Kieren's teacup. God, Simon swears the man only comes around so he can be fed.

"What?" he grunts back, wanting to finish this task first.

"Simon?" Kieren calls again, only louder and Simon physically groans, setting down the jar of milk he was holding. "Can you come here for a sec?"

Simon trudges into the bedroom and his eyes pop out of his head.

There is an angel standing in his bedroom.

Dear God.

No- wait, it's actually just Kieren. (Close enough)

But it isn't regular clothed Kieren. The man is standing in front of the mirror in only his underwear and he is just gazing at his reflection.

Simon thinks if his own heart could beat, it would just stop right at this instance.

"Vanity is an awful sin," he quips, smiling at the sight from the doorway.

Kieren rolls his eyes and frowns so hard, Simon is half surprised his face doesn't freeze that way.

"Do I look different to you?"

This catches Simon off guard and he has to actually tear his thoughts into looking for a physical change.

"Hm," he hums softly as he gets a good excuse for his eyes to roam. His skin definitely is getting less pale, but that wasn't it. They had discussed that already.

Until it pounces on Simon like wild animal from behind the bushes.

"Your legs," he utters slowly, gaping with his white eyes widened and his jaw dropping.

He moves forward and points vaguely towards his thighs. He looks nothing short of stunned, "You've put on weight,"

Kieren looks down. Then back at the mirror. Then down. Mirror. Down. Mirror. Simon. He pinches lightly at his leg and can feel the new layer of fat.

"My god," he whispers, slowly turning back to look at Simon, "You're right,"

They stare at each other for just a second, before the surprised gawks dissolve into excited grins and their hands find each other's faces and lips find lips until tongues find tongues.

(Heaven).

Simon half ponders disguising it but his hands pinch lightly at Kieren's cheeks as he holds it through the kiss, feeling it fuller and more squishier.

The dark-haired man feels a little dizzy and he is tempted to just hold Kieren for the rest of eternity.

"Your face is getting fatter," he murmurs directly into Kieren's mouth and the now living boy practically beams, "I know,"

And their kisses grow more passionate and desperate, yet tender and loving. Because it feels so human. So real. For ages he had been convinced this was the body, form and shape he was sticking with for the rest of his existence. But now he is changing and it is exciting.

 

Simon hadn't shown any of the signs yet.

Kieren had even asked him, in fear he was disguising them out of shame or something. But no, his hands were as steady as a rock and he was generally all around PDS.

"It's only a matter of time, eh?" he would say and Simon would just shrug.

"Everyone's bodies develop at different speeds, yours is probably just taking its time," and that would make Simon groan, as if he wanted Kieren to stop speaking of this in a public place.

(Which was true).

"You make it sound like puberty," he mutters under his breath so Kieren just about hears it and none of the other supermarket shoppers do.

"I guess that isn't too far fetched," he laughs and Simon just looks ahead and changes the subject to what brand of cereal he wants bought.

"Are you scared about it?" Kieren says when he finishes tossing a box into the basket Simon is holding.

"I don't know," he fiddles with the handle of the basket. His mouth moves to one side and Kieren knows he is holding back saying something.

"What?" he raises an eyebrow and Simon blinks back innocently, as though he wasn't an open book sometimes.

"What are you thinking?" he prods. So Simon sighs and moves to inspect the health content on some of the products on the shelf. He wanted Kieren to have a variety of food to eat when he came over.

Kieren nudges him once more and Simon finally turns to look at him, "I just don't think it's going to happen to me," he admits, "Wouldn't it have happened already if it was going to?"

"I told you earlier, it's not going to be the same for everyone, lots of other people haven't changed yet,"

"I know, but I don't think it's going to happen to me," he shrugs and his expression, so usually open, is hard to decipher.

"Not with that attitude," Kieren says sarcastically and for a second his sarcasm is lost on Simon.

But they don't mention the fact that Simon isn't changing again. Even though, silently and subconsciously, it plays a bit on both of their minds.

 

Halloween is a strange time for the Undead.

The night where the souls of the dead walk among the living. Sounds a bit familiar, doesn't it?

Kieren hadn't been fussed on Halloween the first time around. He doesn't care much for it now.

But Steve and Sue were going to so much effort. Making toffee and chocolate apples that dripped and made a mess in the kitchen.

Bought every cheap horror film on offer, (because clearly they don't own enough disks).

And even hung orange and purple paper chains over the sitting room.

He knew that despite his aversion to the holiday, he would smile for them. And at least pretend to enjoy it a little.

It was starting to get dark out and the blinds were pulled, noisy squealers sounding from outside before they went up in a bang, followed by some crackles.

The fireworks would be scaring a few dogs tonight.

Suddenly Kieren felt a little afraid for Simon, all alone in that house. There was always a bit of crap given to PDS-sufferers on Halloween.

A brick through their windows, yelling drunken slurs from the street, graffiti sprawled loudly across their front door, and in the most extreme cases, fires being set off through the letter box.

The idea that Simon was by himself on such a night sent a chill down his spine and he was grabbing his phone almost instantly.

After giving Simon a couple of calls on the landline, heading straight to voicemail each time, he opens up a blank text message and types out a quick message.

He waits a little while, before sending another. Getting no replies.

"You ready to watch this?" he looks up to see his mother fiddling with the Blu-Ray player. Jem mumbles something through a mouthful of popcorn and Kieren has to shake himself out of his stupor.

"Hm, yeah?" he blinks in confusion and she asks him again if he is ready to watch the movie.

"Is it alright if I go 'round and get Simon?" there must be something she recognises from his pursed lips and knitted eyebrows because she agrees without asking any questions.

Loud, unexpected noises scare Kieren at the best of times, so tonight of all nights, anxiety claws almost viciously inside his throat as he speed-walks to the bungalow.

The sitting room light was on so that was a good sign. Kieren walks on in, the damn door is never locked anyway.

"Hey, Simon?" he calls and pokes his head through the kitchen, "Fancy coming over to mine?" he says loudly, hoping Simon can hear him and respond so he doesn't give the man a fright, or vice-versa.

The kitchen is empty, the room seeming strangely still. As with the sitting room. He knocks on the bathroom and receives no response, so he pokes his head in. Empty as well.

Lastly he checks Simon's bedroom and at first he assumes the dark-haired man is fast asleep. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his back almost touching Simon's side and then he notices the whites of his eyes staring back through the sparse amount of light.

"Hey," he whispers softly with a smile, "Were you tired?" but Simon doesn't respond, he simply squirms around from under the covers and mumbles into himself.

"What's that?" Kieren asks but the only thing he gets in return are incoherent babbles. He makes out a snippet of the words but they are unrelated and out of context. Like his brain was spurting them out at random.

That was when Kieren realised something was wrong.

Frantically his hands felt around for a light, desperate to find the little switch for the lamp. Eventually he does and Simon looks terrified; a shadow of himself. Confidence washed away leaving a layer of pure terror.

"What's happened?" he blurts out, beginning to allow the fear to diffuse into himself, "Si, listen to me," he pleads.

Simon's hands move and hug around his own chest, as though he is holding his body together. He isn't shaking and his skin feels normal, but the colour of said skin is leaning more towards grey than the previous white.

Kieren rubs his shoulder quietly for a minute and he feels so stiff, so tense under his fingers. Minutes roll past and Kieren scoots forward to wrap an arm around his shoulders, his other hand rubbing Simon's arm soothingly.

He doesn't know how he knows, but he does recognise the exact second when Simon's head comes back down to Earth. And he just buries his face into Kieren's jacket and breathes a shuddering sigh.

"You okay?" he says softly, combing through his hair and becoming almost hypnotised with the way the strands follow one another. "No," Simon croaks and his now beating heart speeds up, as if preparing to break.

"I feel really sick," he murmurs and hides his face further into the fabric until his head is practically lying in Kieren's lap. "How so?" he asks and he hopes to God he will be able to help in some way.

"I don't know," his voice is cracked and that is the final straw before Kieren's own heart cracks.

"Well I came over to get you anyway, why don't you come around and stay at mine tonight?" he suggests, "Could keep an eye on you," he doesn't know if it is the sickness or a response but he groans.

"I don't want to ruin your night," he grumbles and Kieren rolls his eyes, "Don't be stupid, come on, I'll look after you,"

Simon groans again and it is definitely in response, "I don't need looking after," he looks like he wants to bury his face under the covers but Kieren's lap is admittedly more comfortable.

"Don't be so stubborn," he tuts and he rubs Simon's neck, "If you don't come willingly, I will carry you,"

"You wouldn't dare," he mutters.

"Try me,"

Suffice to say, Simon crawled out of bed and left the quiet bungalow with Kieren.

Although he did feel a tad guilty about making the man leave his bed, he would feel a lot better knowing he was safe and being able to look after him if he was sick.

Simon wasn't going to ask for help, but he was finding the walk back difficult.

Wordlessly, Kieren slipped a hand around his waist and helped support some of his weight. Simon wasn't going to say how he was thankful for this, all of it, the care, the love, but Kieren knew he was.

"Home," Kieren calls as he closes the door, still holding Simon upwards and revelling in the feeling of warmth compared to the chill of outside.

"Where did you get off to?" Steve says before he has entered the room and Kieren knows if Steve had've had a voice on the matter earlier, he might have found more difficulty in getting out. Halloween night was not one that was safe for PDS-sufferers around here. Ex-PDS or not.

"Just 'round to get Simon," he explains and his hand leaves Simon's waist as the man finds support in the table. "He's not feeling too good," he shoots Steve a look as he enters and there are no more interrogations.

"Ah, right. Well go on into the sitting room and get warmed up Simon. Film's only quarter way through,"

Kieren resists the urge to rolls his eyes but he holds back and a hesistating hand is placed on Simon's back as they make their way there.

"Bit under the weather, eh?" Sue says sympathetically as she greets Simon in the doorway, "There you sit down and I'll get you some blankets," he manages a weak smile but he is too exhausted for anything else.

"Would you like some tea, Simon?" she fusses and his cold blood warms.

"No thank you," he says but it comes out croaky and he cringes.

"How about some hot chocolate? Or soup?"

"Mum," Jem practically drones, "Kier will end up being the one cleaning it up in five minutes," and she looks startled at her joke for a second. Before letting out a slight chuckle.

Simon shakes his head at Kieren when she leaves and thanks his lucky stars his face can't flush.

Merely five minutes later, he is wrapped and bundled in blankets, watching an old horror movie with Kieren and his family. Better than sitting alone in the bungalow surely.

But as the seconds tick on, his head is slowly making it's way to lean on Kieren's shoulder and his eyes are beginning to close.

Within ten minutes he is fast asleep, curled into Kieren's shoulder.

 

Simon is lying flat on the sofa when he begins to wake, his long legs curled into his chest and blankets wrapped tight around him- even a pillow tucked under his head.

Kieren watches as he blinks slowly, drifting into consciousness and he smiles from where he was seated on the floor, next to the head-rest of the sofa. "You okay?"

Simon doesn't answer but presses a hand to his temples, tiny whimpers shuddering from his lungs. The pain was bad.

(Really bad.)

"It's fine," he soothes, combing Simon's hair and masking his own extreme panic. He remembers telling Simon the same thing in the early days of his 'Warming-Up'.

"Kier-en," he croaks, the syllables becoming hitched as the pain soars harder. Almost agonisingly so. Kieren feels his hands tremble and they move down to massage Simon's temples.

"Go back to sleep, I'll be here," he whispers reassuringly and Simon closes his eyes once more.

Probably down to the pure exhaustion, it doesn't take long until he is sleeping once more. Athough a painful frown is strewn across his features.

Kieren stands up and stretches his stiff muscles like a sleepy cat, he glances around the empty living room and curls up at the end of the sofa, sneaking a little portion of Simon's blankets as he sits in silence, only broken by the tiny ticks of the clock's waving hands.

It is around 4am, and the fireworks are still going strong.

Kieren knows he won't be so easily snatched into the claws of slumber tonight, whether to the pops and bangs outside, or the sheer, bone-chilling fear for Simon.

 

Simon wakes some hours later and it's light out, the sun shining down on his face. The first thing he notices- and hears, is Jem eating a toffee apple from last night, incredibly loudly.

At least it seems loud to Simon. If he didn't know any better he would have been convinced he had the worst hangover known to man, either that or he had been shot in the head.

"Not the nicest way to spend Halloween, eh?" he almost jumps in shock when he realises Kieren is sitting on the head-rest he is lying on, gently ruffling his hair.

"Nah," he replies but his voice is scratchy and hoarse.

(God, he felt like a mess.)

He slowly moves into a seated position, despite how extreme the protests of his head and stomach are, and Kieren takes a place beside him.

"Maybe you're starting to warm up," he says it casually, but the hope is still there.

Unseen, like a nosy neighbour peeping from the slots between the blinds.

Simon can feel a strange pressure on his chest, building. Slowly. But surely. He was a pressure cooker, ready to bubble and splutter water over its edges.

He knew this wasn't what the Almighty Warming-Up felt like.

He had done that much research on it after all. He considered himself to be an unofficial expert on the subject by now.

"I don't think so," he says softly, because he doesn't want Kieren to have false hope. Simon has a gut instinct about this and it isn't good.

"Just a bug, probably," Jem shrugs and looks up from her snack.

Kieren gives her a look, "We can't get sick," and his head is too focused on his now instant craving for a toffee apple to notice the usage of 'we' when describing PDS- sufferers.

Something he is no longer.

"PDS bug, I don't know, fuck, I'm not a doctor Kier," she mutters defensively but her eyes widen with an idea almost instaneously, "Why don't you go to Dr Russo, see what he says?"

Kieren doesn't miss the way his muscles suddenly tense and the way a flash of fear strikes through his features.

"I'll be grand, I'm sure," he utters, quickly climbing to his unsteady feet, "No need for any of that, but I best be off. Thanks for the company," he is making his way to the door but he can barely stand.

"Simon," Kieren calls and Simon stops. Most likely due to the crippling tiredness in his bones but whatever. He leans on the door frame.

"Come here, you're dead on your feet," his arms are leading him back to the sofa in a split second and they both are smiling small smiles at the really quite dumb joke, Jem making a show of rolling her eyes from the armchair.

"Stay until you feel better," Kieren says and it sounds more like a timid question than a demand, "No doctors yet, promise,"

He doesn't know why the prospect of medical care sent that look of fear into Simon's eyes, but it was unmistakable and he didn't want to witness that terror again.

 

Simon feels a little strange lying in Kieren's bed a day later. Of course he had protested all he could in his weak state but Kieren practically shepherded him in.

The paintings and drawings stare back at him through the darkness with only a slither of light illuminating the edges of the curtains. Moonlight. Pale and beautiful.

Simon knows PDS-sufferers cannot really feel temperatures, and he knows this isn't really feeling them, per se, but there is a cold sensation right in the middle of his chest.

As the seconds roll past, he tried to ignore it increasing in intensity. It's nothing. It's okay. Go to sleep. You're fine. Kieren's only downstairs on the sofa. But it gets worse.

Until the chill is spreading all across his chest and he is convinced he is pumped full of ice, sharp and crisp, melting freezing-cold water through his hollow, abandoned veins.

God, it was so cold it hurt.

He can almost feel snow seeping through his coat from that time he tripped while playing in the yard.

His mother did tell him to wear his gloves, the blue striped ones that he got for Christmas but he didn't listen. The snow wasn't that cold anyway, he told her. But the memory of that painful touch to his bare hands was still firmly imprinted in his mind.

He once thought he could warm the snow, hold it in his hands, and close to his chest, as even though it hurt him, it would be worth it because the snow would be warm.

But the snow must have gotten too warm because it was dripping through his fingers and onto his clothes. He must have been doing it wrong, something wasn't right.

Simon thought he was a bit like snow.

Kieren must have also wanted to play in the snow because he is there, close by with a worried face. Why is he so worried? It is freaking snowing.

Simon is trying to tell him to wear gloves, not to touch him without gloves, because it will hurt. It will be so cold that it is painful. Kieren reaches out anyway because he is a devious little shit, and threads his fingers through Simon's hair as he holds him close to his chest; close to his beating heart.

Simon tries to warn him but he doesn't understand.

Then he feels that feeling, and he is melting away. Dripping through Kieren's fingers and down onto his clothes like snow.

It takes an hour to coax Simon out of the strange state he had fallen into. He had been delirious, mumbling strange things about snow that Kieren didn't quite understand.

"Can we go out for a walk?" Simon mumbles through the dark and it sounds like he is covering his mouth. Kieren looks down at his lap, where the other had hesitantly accepted as a place to lie their aching head.

"What? Now?" Kieren frowns. It's the dead of night, early morning type hours.

"Mmm," he groans so the redhead stands without a word and grabs his shoes, gently placing Simon's beside him. "Come on," he says gently and swings his coat around his shoulders.

Getting down the stairs is not an easy task as Simon is unbalanced and stumbles, his loud shoes clomping on the floor boards as Kieren rushes to help him.

There is no doubt in either of their minds that they have woken someone, if not all three of the other Walkers, but they don't leave their rooms nonetheless.

It was a bad idea. A very bad idea, Simon thinks when they reach the outside world and are walking down the pavement, Kieren technically doing most of the walking for them both.

The wind whistles through his ears and makes his head feel one hundred times worse plus the exhaustion is back.

"Simon?"

The voice is farway and distant and he heaves over a nearby ditch, gagging. Nothing happens but his throat aches and his stomach twists in ways undead stomachs should not.

"There," he soothes and Simon is breathing in ragged breaths. His throat eventually catching and sending his body into spasms of coughs. He curses the universe for giving him organs that don't work, but have fuck ups all the same.

"Sorry," he means to say, but it comes out as a pathetic whimper and Kieren looks at him with those eyes. Those eyes that are fading into their natural colour of pure Heaven.

"Can we stop off at Shirley's?" he asks, knowing the suggest won't be welcomed with open arms but mentions it all the same. Simon focuses on the pressure of Kieren's delicate hand on his back as he wills his mouth to refuse.

"Shirley is fine, promise," his voice is reassuring, "Just a quick visit, eh?"

"It's too late, at night I mean," he fumbles with his words, his tongue feeling like an anchor, usually keeping him level and steady, but tonight it weighs him down.

"She will understand, I'll text Phillip," he can't quite disguise the raw fear and concern. Kieren was starting to realise this wasn't what Warming-Up looked like.

Simon nods but he means to shake his head, "In the morning," he says in a low tone and Kieren reluctantly agrees, half-carrying the exhausted man home again.

He falls asleep at the end of his bed, Simon cocooned in the covers.

The next morning Simon has had a sudden change of heart, tiredly refusing to go to Shirley's, like a moody child avoiding school.

"Come on Si, you said you would do it," he coaxes, an armful of Simon's clean clothes clutched to his chest. "I can't," is his small reply and Kieren sighs, kneeling by his head and pushing away the dark hair from his forehead.

"You know you're infuriating at times," he says softly and that gets a breath of laughter from the weary man. But the laugh turns to a whimper, which fades into a sniffle.

"Please come, for me. I can't stand seeing you like this, Simon,"

"Kieren-"

"I know you don't want any doctors or anything, but-"

"Kieren, I think I'm going to-"

And he finally recognises that look in his face and just about gets him through the doors of the bathroom before he's gagging again.

"Shhh," he soothes as Simon collapses into his chest, dry sobs quietly shaking his body. And Kieren just holds him, rocking him slowly until he eventually relaxes.

 

For the next two days, Simon remains in his sickly state, refusing a doctor despite Kieren, Sue, Steve and even Jem's advice, (practically demands in Kieren's case) but on the third day, it eases up, and they walk back to the bungalow.

Kieren is under the belief it is to grab some more clothes but Simon has other ideas.

"Can we leave?" he practically splutters as they step into the house, holding Kieren's soft cheeks in his hands. 

"What?" Simon allows himself to be gently pressed into the wall and his lips are encased with another set almost immediately.

"I wanna go away for a bit, just with you," he says it timidly and Kieren watches him with a fond expression, "This isn't going to get you out of going to a doctor Simon," and Simon presses his face into his hair, imagining that he can smell a scent drifting from the golden strands.

"I'm not going to one," he mumbles into the nest of hair and thankfully Kieren doesn't hear. "But I do want to go away,"

"Where would we go?" he laughs as Simon's hands brush his neck, tickling the extra sensitive skin, "I don't know, lets take a train, go to the city. We can decide from there,"

"What's gotten into you?" Kieren asks as his hands move from Simon's shoulders to his waist. But Simon averts his eyes to the ground and his arms dangle from where they are perched around Kieren's neck.

"Nothin'," he finally responds and Kieren breaks their kiss to share a serious glance. One dipped with fear and concern, but most of all, agreement. "Okay," he presses his lips to Simon's forehead, "Right, let's do it,"

"Let's go pack then," he breathes. He would never admit it but the combination of his sickness and the making out had worn him down.

"What? Now?"

"No time like the present," he half-grins and Kieren looks like he is well and truly flabbergasted.

"Eh?"

"I'll grab my stuff then," Simon pulls himself away from where he had been shoved into the wall and Kieren stares, gobsmacked after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Drop your thoughts in the comments! :) x


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it has been AGES since I have posted but I had this chapter in my drafts so I am thinking of resurrecting this story! What do ya'll think? :) x

"It will probably only be for the day," Kieren is trying to tell his mother, bag in his hand.

She wasn't keen on the idea. The city might have been more forward-thinking but that didn't automatically mean it was safer. It wasn't.

"It will be fine, promise," he says and she folds her arms across her cardigan, looking doubtful. "Simon isn't exactly in good heath at the minute," she counters.

Kieren felt anxiety nip at his chest like hungry piranhas, "Well I think that's why he wants to go. I don't know mum, but I think it would be good for us,"

She shakes her head, as though snapping out of her uncertainties, "Yeah, course, you're right love," she moves to rub his arm.

"I'll see you later," he smiles and accepts her motherly hug before heading out, a little guilty he couldn't hang around until Jem and their father got back, but the time of their train and Simon's hastiness meant they didn't get a chance.

"Ready?" Simon is rocking back and forth of the balls of his feeth anxiously and only glances up when Kieren steps towards him.

"Course, let's go," he smiles and reaches out for Simon's hand. Hooking their pinky fingers together tentatively while avoiding Simon's surprised yet chuffed smile.

 

The train rattled and jittered on its rusty tracks, lights whirring past the dark windows like cars around a course. Simon was frowning almost angrily at a crossword puzzle. Even after Kieren told him if he scowled much more, his face would freeze that way.

"How am I supposed to know stuff like that," he mutters, scratching away with his pencil.

"I'll be right back," Kieren stands up from his seat and stretches. Simon finally averts his all-consuming attention from the puzzle and stares curiously at the red-haired man.

"Just off to the bathroom," he explains awkwardly, smiling as his face turns a little pink, "Sometimes forget, being fully alive and all that, you know,"

Simon nods his understanding and Kieren darts out of his seat.

When he returns not even five minutes later, his boyfriend is fast asleep. Head resting uncomfortably against the window and his neck at a crooked angle. He shakes his head and almost tuts.

Slipping his hand under the other's neck and revelling in the sensation of Simon's smooth skin and cold, window condensation dampening his cheeks. He gently steers the man's head in the right direction and allows it to sink into the back of his chair, removing the pencil from his hand and pushing back his pull-out table.

Finally he flops his own seat, feeling the easy movement of the train car beneath his feet as he glances around at the few passengers he can see from this angle.

They don't hold his interest for more than a few seconds at a time, so he pulls out his ever-present sketch book and nicks Simon's pencil.

Pursing his lips as though he was even considering what to draw. He knew it would be Simon. It always seemed to be Simon, recently.

So he drew the man, weary and drained under the dark window and dodgy train lighting, with his head sliding to his shoulder and a tiny frown pinching on his eyebrows.

And Kieren thought it must have been a sight created by the angels themselves.

 

"Hey," he shakes the dozing man's shoulder gently as their train squeaks to a stop an hour later. It's late and he feels a little bad for waking Simon but they have to leave.

He almost looks afraid when he opens his eyes, but it dilutes slightly after seeing Kieren and he lets out a deep breath through his nose.

"C'mon and we'll get into that hotel, you can get back to sleep then," Simon sleepily reaches out for his bags and clumsily trails after Kieren.

The air is freezing, Kieren notices when they exit the vehicle and the gust of wind hits him in the face. He almost drops his bag it was that bloody cold.

Simon does notice the chattering of his teeth while they stumble to the lit taxi and he shrugs off his parka.

Kieren almost laughs. What was this- a movie? Simon seems to be along the same train of thought and rolls his eyes. "If I weren't half dead I would think again," he explains, not affected by the temperature.

"Excuses," Kieren snorts cheerfully as he pulls Simon's heavy coat around his freezing body.

The taxi ride to the small hotel is short and uneventful, with Simon drifting in and out between consciousness. Kieren spends that time in the back seat of the car, thigh pressed against Simon's as he gazes out at the city.

It was strange seeing a place so full of life, even at night. Groups and clusters of people, arms full of bags and laughing, sometimes stumbling drunkly with limbs flailing around each other's shoulders while others walked solo, hands stuffed into pockets, phones on their ears, cups of steaming liquid in their hands. So many different people.

Living and Undead.

When they reached the hotel room, Kieren notes the two seperate double beds Simon had booked, (just incase) that were laid on either sides of each wall and rolls his eyes.

Truth be told, he knew they hadn't exactly shared a bed, but he didn't think Simon would doubt that they were going to.

"Which do you want?" Kieren deadpanned and his cover was almost blown by the lack of shock in the other's face- like he had expected it.

"The one beside the window, if that's okay," he gently closes and locks the door behind them.

"Left it is," he smiles before dropping his bag onto the window bed, only smiling wider at Simon's widened eyes. "You do want me in your bed, don't you?"

It does take him a minute before he realises how the sentence had sounded, but he ignores it, hoping his face isn't burning.

Simon looks too fixated on the fact that Kieren was willing share a bed to notice, "Of course I do," he replies, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed with a twitch of a smile.

"That's that sorted then," Kieren rolls his eyes again and gives his hair a slight ruffle much to Simon's complaints. Before he walks across the smallish room to pull the curtains and turn off the overhead light.

The bedside lamps glow and make Simon look a warm yellow colour. Kieren feels strangely at peace.

"You have to eat don't you?" Simon looks suddenly startled like he had forgotten to feed his goldfish and just remembered, "-and water, you need water,"

"I ate on the train when you dozed off, relax, it's okay," he laughs, but then a thought occurs to him, "Your shot, you've taken it today, haven't you?"

"Last night,"

"Last night?" he frowns at Simon,, "What time?"

"Four maybe, don't panic, I'll get it now," he reaches out for his bag but Kieren beats him to it, "Here, I'll do it,"

Simon hesitates but inevitably loosens his grip of the bag and Kieren retrieves the medication. "Okay?" he falters as he tugs back the hem of Simon's shirt. "Mhm," he murmurs and gasps lightly as the medication whooshes through him.

Kieren rubs his shoulder and he ducks his head, feeling a little strange as the liquid flows through him.

It never usually feels like this and he feels pissed that just when Kieren happens to give him his shot, his body flips him off.

They climb into the bed and under the soft duvet, clean and pressed sheets against their bodies. There is a line of space between and Kieren knows it will be invaded soon enough.

He turns off his bedside lamp, but Simon keeps his own switched on. He doesn't ask why and he doesn't complain because it isn't bothering him.

"G'night," Simon whispers as his head crosses the space and leans into the side of Kieren's shoulder. "Goodnight," he scoots down to meet the pair of cool lips he adores and plants sloppy kisses on their surfaces, happily accepting the replies.

Throughout the night, Kieren sheds a few layers of clothing due to the heat and he notices Simon removes nothing. He knows it's not just because he can't feel the temperatures, it's just one of those things about Simon he doesn't understand.

He's hiding something and while it pains Kieren, he is fully used to that feeling.

 

He wakes up at the lazy hour of half eleven.

Mainly because his stomach is grumbling like it is trying to communicate with extraterrestrials. So he trudges out of bed, completes his new fully-living, routine of going to the bathroom and washing his face.

Simon is still asleep like the dead, but he won't be for long if Kieren's stomach doesn't shut the hell up. So he sprawls him a quick note and heads down to breakfast.

Some of the other people seem to be eating lunch which Kieren forgets is okay, since it closer to that time. But he internally shrugs.

Maybe city people eat noodles for breakfast, he thinks as he grabs himself a bowl and spoons cornflakes into it.

Halfway through scoffing his meal, he is rudely interrupted by a pair of lips on his cheek as another body flops into the seat opposite him.

"Fancy place this, innit?" Kieren says as way of greeting. "Suppose," Simon agrees and rubs the sleep from his eyes with a yawn.

"You could have stayed in bed, you know? Get a good lie in for a change," Kieren says through a mouthful of mushed up cereal and fruit and Simon is staring at his mouth like he is the most elegant creature imaginable, the milk dribbling down his chin akin to liquid gold.

"Don't wanna waste our day together," he tosses Kieren the napkin he was toying with as he notices the other man glancing around for something.

"Ta," he grins as he rubs at his chin with the napkin, "I wouldn't have gotten up if I didn't have such a damn appetite,"

Simon smiles and watches the way his throat muscles move as he takes a gulp of tea. Almost in awe of him.

Kieren gives him a slight slap on the arm, bringing him back from his faraway look, "Rude to stare you know," he says lightly. Little hints of teasing poking through.

"I'm not staring," he weakly defends but he's already smiling. Freakin' Kieren's fault. Always making him smile.

"What were you doing then?" Kieren's face is blank but his tone has a little edge to it.

"Oh, just observing," his eyes shoot up to the ceiling like it had suddenly became interesting.

"Watching me 'cuz you think I'm moregous, eh?" Kieren taunts in a playfully mocking tone.

"What can I say? I like observing the wildebeest in his natural habitat," Simon shoots back and Kieren laughs in surprise, giving him a naughty kick under the table.

Simon only grins when he can't feel it, but somehow ends up tugging Kieren's head towards him and allowing the other to seal their mouths with kisses.

A cornflake somehow ends up in Simon's mouth and they both crack up for ages at that.

 

They walk around the city centre in the hustle and bustle of the crowds for an hour before they are drawn to the large park hidden off with stretches upon stretches of trees.

They sit by the bank of the pond and Kieren laments not bringing food for the ducks, Simon eyeing the swan swimming in the distance with some level of caution.

"Those things terrify me," he admits as he leans back on the grass, holding himself up on his elbows.

"Swans, really?" Kieren's brown eyes almost pop out of his head.

"Yeah," he laughs, ducking his a little bashfully, probably regreting saying it. "Vicious little buggers they can be,"

Kieren laughs harder, "They look beautiful though," he half-argues.

"Well so do lions, until they rip your head off your shoulders," Kieren is lying down, shaking with mirth by now.

He loved the strange little things he was discovering about Simon. They never failed to surprise him.

"You freaked by any animals?" Simon grins with one side of his mouth. He probably just wants the attention off his own fear.

"Well, squirrels," he divulges. "Rick-" he stops for a second, before the curious look in Simon's eyes assure him fully and he continues, "Rick used to find dead ones in his yard and bring them back to mine in a carrier, you know, when we were young,"

"He used to get a right laugh from my face when he poked at it. Properly put me off squirrels," Simon shakes his head with a laugh as he finishes the story, although acknowledging that it was difficult for him to tell, he knows not to make a big deal of it.

"Same thing happened to me with my friend Mickey," Simon nods, "He used to blend wine gums and red sauce and drink it for the hell of it,"

"How is that the same thing?" Kieren blurts out an incredulous chuckle.

Simon looks sheepish, "It put me off wine gums," he says innocently like it was obvious and Kieren can't help but bury his face into his muppet of a boyfriend's jumper.

Simon just laughs.

Truth be told, there was no friend Mickey, and he didn't despise wine gums.

He just wanted to see that light return to Kieren's eyes.

 

When they leave, they go to a large shopping centre and Kieren buys a takeout hot chocolate, occasionally wincing and cursing when he burns his tongue.

Simon practically dives into the music store when they come into view of it and Kieren trails after him, sloping off to have a peak at the Blu-Rays. He jokes that his dad probably has all of them, at least Simon thinks he's joking.

As they grab a couple of items, a second hand game for Jem and a few CD's before heading off to the main clothes store.

Kieren's fingers brush a claw machine, illuminated and brimming with teddy bears as they pass. "I was always shit at those," he chuckles.

"It's a scam," Simon nods but stops in his tracks and walks a few paces back to the machine.

"What're you doing?" Kieren bumps his shoulder and watches drops a couple of coins into the slot.

"Trying to win you a prize, obviously," he smirks and Kieren rolls his eyes, looking away from Simon's face to see their reflections in the mirror on the other side of the claw machine.

He was flushed slightly and Simon looked sickly, even for PDS-sufferer. But they looked exuberant. Postively radiating happiness.

Simon's tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth with the effort and concentration at the task at hand and Kieren grinned.

"Fuckin' thing," he curses as the toy raises a few centimeters in the air, held within the clutches of the claw, before dropping as he moved it towards the drop.

"No, wait," he fires a few more coins in and tries several times, to no avail.

"So much for winning me a prize," Kieren taunts, smirking as they walk away from the money-grabbing machine.

"This isn't the movies Kieren, there was no hope in hell of winning that thing," he breaths out a low laugh.

"How romantic," he scoffs, reaching out and hooking two of his fingers with two of Simon's.

They were moving up in the ladder.

The clothing store they went to next was ridiculously over-priced so it was more window shopping than actual shopping.

"Like?" Kieren holds up a knitted jumper with freakish cartoon giraffes sewn on.

Simon quirks an eyebrow. In turn raising a leather-studded jacket at the ginger man.

"It's definitely your style," he mumbles with a half-grin.

Kieren rolls his eyes and strolls off to a cheaper shop, Simon trailing behind like a puppy at his heels.

They actually do purchase a couple of items. A few long-sleeved thermal tops for Kieren, (because you can never have too many) and two quilted jumpers for Simon.

A dark blue and white striped one, (Kieren's choice because the other looks postively adorable in stripes) and a typical Simon-style jumper.

"Cheap enough," Kieren notes as they exit with their bags in tow. Simon makes a noise of agreement.

Kieren is well and truly starving by then and they head into a decent restaurant, even though he did tell Simon several times he didn't have to join him; he could carry on shopping until he was finished and they could meet up.

Simon, of course, shook it off and said he didn't mind.

The walls were panelled with a dark wood making the place feel closed off and cozy, the smells of cooking floating from the kitchen in steamy puffs.

Simon was glad to sit down as his head was swimming.

"Everything okay?" Kieren looks up from his plate with a mouthful of spaghetti, noticing the strange look on Simon's face.

"Mmhm," he mutters, trying to focus his view. It was a little difficult.

"You don't seem it," Kieren notes, setting down his fork with a look of genuine concern.

"I said I'm fine," Simon snaps with venom on his tongue. It wasn't like him and Kieren recoils, looking away from him and grabbing his fork.

They sit in silence for a moment, Kieren eating angrily and Simon slowly drowning in his own guilt and self-loathing.

"Sorry," he utters.

More silence.

"I'm sorry, Kieren," he says again and the doe-eyed man finally looks at him. His anger dissolves as does his resolve to give Kieren the silent treatment.

There's something about his expression. It's drenched in something he is well and truly familiar with.

"It's alright," he says gently and toys with the spaghetti strands on his plate using his fork.

"I'm just afraid," comes the small response.

And that almost knocks the wind from his lungs.

"Of what?" he searches for Simon's eyes but the gaze isn't returned.

He shrugs, and that is all they say on the matter for now.

 

"Did you like funfairs?" Kieren seems to pluck the question out of thin air that night.

(Although Simon later discovers it was because he was leading them towards one).

"When I was wee, I did. Went to one during a bad trip once. Suffice to say, that didn't go down well," he shoves his hands into his pockets and Kieren nods.

"Amy took me to a funfair around when I first came back," he smiles at the memory.

"Yeah? That sounds like Amy alright," he huffs out a laugh.

"Speaking of, I was thinking we should definitely take Philip out on a trip like this,"

Simon nods at the idea and Kieren wonders how Philip is getting along. They had exchanged the odd text and he seemed to be doing fine.

"Kieren?"

"Yeah?"

"Where are we going?" Simon frowns at the path in front of him, the back roads of the city dark but rainbows of lights were in the distance.

"Funfair," he grins and ignores the surprise on Simon's face. "Thought we could do with some cheering up, eh?"

When the reached their destination, a chorus of laughter and screams filled the air while the dark sky morphed into a kaleidoscope of colours. Rainbows of light whirring in their faces.

"Bumper cars!" Kieren practically exclaims upon spotting the ride. "Aw, come on, let's go on them,"

"Naw," he laughs, "I'm grand,"

"Afraid you'll lose?"

Simon quirks an eye up at the challenge, even if there wasn't exactly a 'winner' in bumper cars, per se.

"You have an unfair advantage over me and all, always got winded in those things I did," he scuffs at the ground with his boot, hand tugging at Simon's jumper.

"Come on," he moans and eventually Simon gives in, rolling his eyes, and seconds later they are clamped it cars, side by side.

It would be fair to say, that if there were 'winners' in bumping cars, Simon definitely wouldn't be one of them.

"Oh God," Kieren stumbles out, clutching his tummy with laughter, "You're shit,"

Simon wants to keep his face firm and solemn, as he was kind of miffed Kieren kept ramming into him (there were other people to crash into!) (and he didn't hold back on reminding Kieren of this) but he cracks and lets out a smile.

"I'm going for candy-floss," the redhead says with a mischievious glimmer in his chocolatey eyes. Simon can't help but adore this wonderful, childlike side to him. "Go and queue for our next ride!"

They spend far longer than they probably should at the amusements. Enjoying the games and the various rides. (They stop going on the rides eventually; Kieren is too close to throwing up).

A light rain began to fall so Simon, not wanting Kieren to freeze to death, suggested they head back to the hotel for the night.

They shed their drenched coats almost instantly when they reach the room and somehow the euphoria of the night makes Kieren a bit more adventurous, reaching out and grabbing the other by the hips.

Simon makes a surprised noise but he doesn't have much time to say anything (like he was planning to) before Kieren locks their lips together and he is shackled in the embrace.

It feels somewhat hungry, despite how gentle they are with one another.

Kieren feels Simon's hands hold desperately at the bottom of his shirt, like he felt afraid to let go, and he moves to grab both of Simon's hands, pushing their palms flat together, before intertwining their fingers.

It feels like he is telling Simon that he is here. He isn't going anywhere.

 

That night, he lies awake, eyes shut as he feigns unconsciousness. One lamp (Simon's) lighting the hotel room. He hears as the figure beside him shuffles out of the blankets before padding into the en suite bathroom.

Fast breathings and gags could be heard through the little crack in the door.

Simon heaves over the sink and it takes all of Kieren's willpower not to run to him.

But he doesn't, and he pretends he hasn't heard anything, mumbling sleepily when Simon climbs back into the bed, sniffling as he presses his forehead into Kieren's shoulder.

Still faking his sleepy state, Kieren flails his arms, somehow landing around Simon's neck, before he pulls the dark-haired man to his chest.

Kieren doesn't fall asleep for hours, and Simon doesn't either by the sound of it.

 

Kieren immediately knows something is wrong when he returns home. His parents are smiling and gushing about the weather, the news, and the town gossip. They bombard them with questions of their trip.

"The journey alright?" Steve asks, "What with all the bother goin' on with the public transport and that,"

"I don't follow," Simon tries to avoid knitting his eyebrows together as he stares hopelessly back in confusion.

"All those terrorist attacks, mind," he divulges and Sue, standing in the background, almost jumps out of her skin.

"Oh Steve, hush down about that," she laughs nervously, shooting him a look.

Kieren notices Simon flinch and swoops in to save him from his most likely, awkward reply.

"It was fine dad, we slept most of the way,"

But it was Jem he noticed, was acting strange. Unusually quiet, quip-less, pursed-lipped and pale. She even gave Simon a small smile.

"It's good you had a nice trip," she says gently when she finally gets Kieren alone in the kitchen. Simon practically forced to choose a Blu-Ray to watch.

"Okay," he says slowly. Suspiciously. Setting down the teaspoon he was using to stir the tea, "What's up with you?"

"Nothin'," she shrugs but her voice raises defensively.

"Jem," he groans and she frowns back at him.

"Well-" she wrings her hands in an unusual display of nerves and Kieren swallows hard, "-there is something,"

"What?" she looks about to spill when the door suddenly opens making them both start.

"Sorry," Simon looks instantly sheepish, "I've interrupted something, haven't I?"

Kieren shakes his head slowly with a fond smile as he moves to the other can set a plate into the sink.

Simon darts out of the room like he is walking on eggshells and closes the door quietly behind him.

"You're really smitten with him, aren't you?" she is chewing on her lip. That couldn't be a good sign.

"He's alright," Kieren says in jest. Who the hell was this person and what did they do with Jem?

"Has he shown any, like signs," she scratches at her palm, "-of that Warming Up,"

If Kieren wasn't giving his full, undivided attention (which he had been) already, he would be now.

"No," he replies suspiciously, "Why?"

"It's just-" her face seems to be slowly blanching, "I heard some things on the Internet,"

"Eh?" Kieren is truly perplexed by now.

"It said that the PDS, the ones that don't change," her voice falters slightly, stuttering words feeling strange and heavy in her mouth, "That they..."

If Kieren's heart could thump any harder, her assumed it would knock right out of his chest.

"They?"

She shakes her head, unable to say any more as he presses a hand to her mouth.

Kieren swallows down the emotions brimming in his throat because it wasn't what his mind was suggesting. Nope.

"All nonsense, innit?" he manages to squeeze out a laugh, "Can't believe everything you read," he punches her shoulder and her face relaxes only slightly.

"You think?"

"Course," he hopes his eyes aren't giving away anything, the touts, as his mouth is stretched into a wide smile. Because maybe if he can convince her, he can convince himself.

Simon pops back around the door although looking hesistant, but Kieren flashes him another smile (so many smiles, he's surprised his cheeks aren't sore) and waves him in.

"Jem here was quizzin' us on how long this fling of ours is gonna last," he winks slyly and Jem's eyebrows raise.

Kieren hadn't actually addressed their relationship to his family; they had kind of just assumed. Although sometimes he wonders if perhaps Steve believes it to be a rather close friendship instead.

"Oh aye?" Simon almost grins, "Well that depends,"

The other man quirks an eyebrow, "On what?"

Simon moves his hands from their clasped position and shrugs, "Depends on how long you'll have me for," his pale eyes are devious but his face remains passive.

Jem audibly gags and her face crumples up, "Oh God," she splutters out a chortle, "I'm leaving before this gets any more fucking cheesy,"

Kieren is biting down a chuckle even as she leaves, although his face is a pinkish hue.

"I do adore you Kieren," he says and revels in the way Kieren suddenly becomes flustered. "I like you too," he blurts out and then it comes almost obvious they are darting around the 'l' word.

What were they so afraid of?

(Don't answer that).

"I should probably head back to the bungalow," he fiddles with the buttons of his coat and Kieren wonders if it is a invitation.

"Do you mind if I come along?"

Simon looks surprised. Happily surprised. Of course he wasn't going to mind.

"No, no- I'd like that," he lets a delicate little smile loose. "I'd better let the fam know," Kieren explains with a backward-thumb-gesture and they almost chuckle.

 

It had been a little over a week since Simon had been in the bungalow and the place was a fucking ice-block. (According to Kieren). Immediately the heating was switched on as were the lights.

"I'll make you something to eat," Simon hovers by the kitchen and Kieren shakes his head.

"I'll fix myself something, it's fine,"

"No, I-"

"I'm not stupid Simon, sit down, you look dead on your feet," the puns never get old it seems.

But Simon obeys, although shooting him a look as he passes to the kitchen.

"Turn on the telly and pick something decent, yeah?" he shouts from the kitchen and internally debates how to bring up his topic of conversation.

Returning with a sandwich in hand, Kieren flops down on the sofa beside him, chewing quietly.

Swallowing, he decides its better to get it over with. Like ripping off a plaster. Best to do it quick.

"Jem said the daftest thing earlier," he starts and Simon's curious expression feels like a kick to the stomach, "Said that the PDS that don't turn-"

There must be something genetical about not being able to complete that sentence, Kieren thinks.

Simon visibly tenses, but nods. "I know,"

"You know?" Kieren sounds as flabbergasted as he looks.

"Heard a couple of things on the matter," he shrugs nonchalantly but his eyes never meet Kieren's.

"You never thought to tell me?" he tries to keep the accusation out of his tone but he is not entirely sure he accomplishes it.

"Nobody knows anything yet," he says to the TV screen as it holds his gaze.

Kieren nods and swallows. He had wanted Simon to have a good laugh about it. Say it is all silly talk and ridiculous rumours. The man stays solemn and it doesn't assure him one bit.

Simon seems to twig onto this and finally looks him in the eye.

"Scientists are working on a cure," is all he says and gives his boyfriend's arm a soft touch.

Kieren nods, because that's all he can do for now.

 

He scuffles his feet on the welcome mat as he enters the house, Shirley moving to the side to let him in. "Phillip's just upstairs, love, shall I call him down?"

Kieren shakes his head as he toys with the frayed sleeve of his jacket. "It's- well, it's actually you I've come to see,"

"Aye?" the lovely lady steered him towards the kitchen with a welcoming smile, "Everything alright?" she asks and she sounds genuinely concerned, planting him down on the sofa and swooping into the kitchen.

"Tea?"

"Please,"

"Is the change going okay for you?" she calls through the whistling noise of the kettle.

Kieren has to also raise his voice to speak over the noisy device, "Oh yeah, it went fine," he leans towards the door so she can hear.

"Simon? How's he?" she says as the whistling noise comes to a halt, the sound of water hitting cups replaces it, "Did it go alright for him?"

Kieren swallows and chews on his lip, "That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," he begins and she hands him the cup as she moves to sit in front of him.

"Yes?" her smile is a mixture between compassion and curiosity. It's reassuring to say the least.

"Well," he looks up from his sleeve, "He hasn't changed yet, and I know that everyone is different and it's okay he hasn't- but he's really unwell,"

Shirley nods along as he speaks, "Then there's that stuff about the PDS that aren't changing," he rubs at his neck; unable to continue the sentence immediately.

"-About them dying," that part is uttered much more quietly and ever so slightly croaky.

Shirley looks on with sympathy, "I know you're worrying over it love but it's just silly talk," she leans across to pat his shoulder, "Why would only half of the PDS warm up and the other half kick the bucket?" she chuckles.

"It's crazy. Just silly rumours," it might be what Kieren wants to hear but that doesn't mean he can fully devote himself to believing it.

"But if your Simon's not well, he really should pop into the surgery,"

"-Or at least come around here, I would happily try my best to help him," she adds.

"I wish he would," Kieren lets out a slight huff of a humourless laugh, "He won't see any doctors. He doesn't even know I'm here,"

She nods. Probably not in understanding, as Kieren doesn't quite understand either.

"Maybe you could try and talk him 'round?" she suggests and Kieren nods. "I'll try again,"

Because they both know they can't force him, even if they do have his best interests at heart.

"Kieren?"

A certain politics-loving friend pops his head through the door almost startling the newly-formed life in him.

God, people really needed to stop doing that.

"Hey Phillip, was just talking to your mum here," he explains, not quite going into detail. He already felt like he was going behind Simon's back enough.

"Fancy a game?" he looks hopeful. Kieren grins at the idea and follows his friend to his room.

"Good trip then?" he asks in that quiet way of his and Kieren curls his legs up on Phillip's bed as they wait for Phillip to set up the console.

"Was nice, yeah, thanks," he replies and they fall into a comfortable silence until Phillip speaks again.

"So it's mum's birthday next week," Kieren looks away from the screen for a moment to glance at him curiously, his hands still pressing at the buttons, "-We're having a surprise party,"

"Oh yeah? It's a wonder my mum never mentioned it,"

"Hm," Phillip murmurs, his attention absorbs in the game until he looks away, "Would you and Simon mind coming?"

Kieren smiles at the invite. (...and Simon). He nodded, "That sounds great. We'd love to,"

Phillip looks ever so slightly chuffed. Well as chuffed as Phillip can. And Kieren feels his beating heart warm with the prospect of things looking up for Phillip.

 

"Hey Simon?" he shouts, stepping into the bungalow.

Silence.

Silence was never a good sign.

He knew it was paranoia and the product of over-thinking. That didn't get rid of the fear though. Knowing he was being ridiculous didn't help.

He doesn't call out or shout again, but he simply patrols each room of the bungalow until he finds Simon in the corner of the living room, head resting against the wall with his eyes closed.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Fear attacks every cell in Kieren's body, soaking into his blood and absorbing everything in its wake. He thinks for a second that this feels familiar but he doesn't think much because his brain is too busy exploding.

Until he realises the Irish man has a book on his lap, and his actually asleep.

He breathes a sigh of relief, almost falling to his knees because thank god, thank god he is okay.

He doesn't move Simon despite the part of his mind that says he should, instead slipping a sofa cushion between him and the wall and a thick blanket around his shoulders.

Quietly slipping out to let him rest.

 

They hear about it on the news. Like everything else. Blown up in crude, breaking news headlines with bold writing and unsympathetic brashness.

It was Kieren's fears molded into one statement, splashes of cruelty and a side helping of life is just not fair.

The goverment issued a statement, sent forward by the doctors at Norfolk.

It turns out that the people who were buried during the second half of the year, therefor the people who were underground for the least amount of time, tended to 'Warm-Up'.

But on the other hand, the other half of PDS-sufferers, well they weren't going to get their glasses re-filled to the top, rather the glass tipped over and smashed for good measure.

There were thousands of reports coming in about PDS-sufferers slowly going back, or rather, 'Cooling-Down' as the BBC News so blantantly put it. He couldn't watch those broadcasts. The detailed, terrifying descriptions were too much for him.

They said they were working on a cure and that it was possible. They had hope. But whether they would have it finished in time was another question as zombies all over the country and beyond were dropping like flies.

Halperin and Weston were filmed making a plea for candidates. PDS-sufferers experiencing this to allow themselves to take a trail run of the first batch of the drugs. Allow themselves to be experimented on like rats in a lab.

Kieren didn't cry. Not yet.

Sue hugged him and whispered something about hope. And not losing it. And Kieren didn't have the energy to speak.

Jem gave his shoulder a rub, which spoke volumes and she didn't say much at all.

Steve took to the internet to research. Because there had to be more information than that. Those types of media were biased and only told you what they wanted you to know. Nothing more.

His footsteps felt heavy on the way to Simon's and when the door opened, he didn't hold back, not bothering with a hello, he flung his arms around the man and pulled him until there was no room left.

Slopping messy kisses on every inch of Simon's neck because maybe he wasn't going to be able to do this again and he was desperate.

They didn't even get a chance to close the door and Kieren was grabbing his face, lurching into his mouth with a frenzy.

His eyes didn't miss the small, black marks along Simon's neck and all of his emotions are exploding like fireworks in the air. Hot and fizzing and dangerous. Falling away with puffs of smoke.

His mouth moves to Simon's chin and along his cold jaw, while his vocal chords start working without his permission.

"I love you, I love you Simon Monroe,"

It spills out clumsily and ungraceful and perfect because, fuck, why have they never said it before? The feelings were there. God, the feelings were always there.

"Don't leave me," he whispers, the kisses growing more tender as the passion gives way to pain. To sorrow. To love. Simon doesn't hear his whispers.

"I love you," he brushes back soft, golden hair from Kieren's forehead and tucks the gentle strands behind his ears.

Kieren thinks he could cry.

He could cry right at that moment. But he doesn't.

"Do you want to come in?" Simon asks and it sounds like a plea to Kieren's ears. In the light, and now that Kieren's having a proper look, it becomes clear how unwell the man is.

He is barely holding himself together so Kieren decides he needs to help. He needs to be a shoulder to lean on.

"I would love to," he croaks, following Simon into the house, this time reaching out and wrapping three fingers into three of Simon's.

Simon turns around and looks at those wet, brown, heavenly-sweet eyes.

He really doesn't want to leave either.

 

For the next couple of days, while Simon is still able to do all of that stuff, they lie on the sofa and envelope eachother in the blankets and kisses and cuddles, watching endless movies and re-runs of sitcoms.

Kieren didn't keep track of how many episodes of FRIENDS they had watched, but it was more than the amount of dinners he had since his re-birth.

Simon lay with his head in Kieren's lap and vice-versa and they got tangled up in each other's bodies and hearts. Murmurring quiet declarations of love from books filled with poems became the norm for Simon and maybe if they tried hard enough.

They could forget.

Forgetting was not on the agenda it seemed, as when Kieren turned up to collect Simon for Shirley's surprise birthday party, Simon was crouched over, on the living room floor, puking up his guts.

Literally.

Kieren's human reaction of nausea went out the window because all there was right now was fear. And concern.

He wasn't even really conscious and the ground was literally a pool of black. If they thought the nosebleeds were messy, this was off the scale.

Shudders wracked his body and Simon was heaving again, the quite huge puddle expanding and Kieren realised how bad of a state he was in. Black staining every inch of his clothes and chin, even his hair.

He didn't know when he had collapsed to his knees but apparently at some stage he had, his hands grabbing at Simon's face and causing them to stain an inky black.

The black seemed to be pouring out of everywhere and for a split second Kieren wonders if he is passing out. He isn't though.

"Simon, Si, can you hear me?!" he is pleading but it doesn't matter. He isn't getting any responses.

"Come on, come on Simon, you can't fucking leave me now," the tears have started and shit, they are pouring.

He tries to help Simon into a seated position but it only causes him to gag more and Kieren avoids looking down because he knows he is likely a mess too. But at the moment, he doesn't care.

"Please Simon," he is begging and he stops trying to help Simon up and instead buries is face in his neck.

His senses must have been dulled with the sheer weight of the emotions because he can't smell the likely horrible scent the room should be because none of it matters.

Simon mumbles. And a flicker of hope ignites within his chest.

He groans and his throwing-up eases a bit. The flicker burns brighter.

He mumbles indecipherable noises and his glassy, distant eyes open and he stares around. The flame spreads to a fire. Hot and burning steadily.

"Simon," he gushes and his voice sounds like what tears would sound like if they could talk. "Kieren," he mumbles, his eyes fluttering and the fire spreads, trickling into his veins and lighting his entire body up with a flaming, pulsing hope.

Simon might be okay.

"It's me, it's me Simon," he brushes back his soaked hair and his eyes are wild with mania.

Hope makes him stronger and he hooks his arms under Simon and manages to carry him to the bathroom, gently lying him in the bath, black staining the sides of the tub.

"It's happening Kieren," his eyes are wide now and the fear is palpable. The pure, unadultered panic. His voice is slurred but the words shoot out at a rapid pace.

"It's happening- the dead are being judged and I have failed. I've failed, I've failed, I've failed,"

"-Fall back into the darkness we will. Back to the pits of hell. I don't want to Kieren, I don't want to go to hell- I don't want to die again!" he is sobbing and Kieren is convinced a ghost has a hand to his windpipe.

"You're not going to hell," he hushes and soothes through the lump in his throat.

"I am- I'm a bad person Kieren. A really bad person, and now I have to pay for that," he tugs at the strand of his wet hair desperately, "All I had to do is be better, why couldn't I have just been better?!"

The sound that comes out of Kieren's throat isn't of a human nature. More of a deep, animalistic whine.

"Y-you are a good person," he says through sniffles and his hands reach out, on their own accord, to hold onto Simon's jumper.

"This is going to eat me all up, isn't it? It's going to eat away at all of my body until my soul just snuffes out like it wasn't there," his voice edges on hysteria and nobody could blame him, "I don't want that!" he cries and Kieren's head falls to the edge of the bath.

"I'm scared," Simon says it much more quietly and when Kieren meets his eyes, they are vulnerable and filled with a cutting terror.

"I'm scared too," he whispers back honestly, his hands moving to catch both of Simon's, slippery and disgusting and their finger move apart and every single one intertwines.

"But it's okay, because we're together,"

You couldn't exactly say Simon calms down after that, but more along the lines of exhaustion cripples him and his mind and body go numb.

His eyes flutter between open and closed as Kieren begins the task of peeling off his many layers. He leaves his underwear where it is, not wanting to breach all his barriers of privacy without permission, but Simon stops his hand when he tries to pull off the last t-shirt.

"Simon I need to take it off," he tries but Simon's hand fights back his. He doesn't think it's a good idea, but he leaves it on anyway.

If Simon is adament about this, who is he to disagree? He knew Simon had secrets. He just hopes he lets them loose eventually.

Instead of filling the bath, like planned, he has to use a sponge instead and it does the trick.

He notices the black marks littering his arms and legs and it makes his head swim, tears welling up in his eyes. He had saw the occasional image on the news but now, seeing the marks dotting Simon's translucent skin, it makes it worse, makes it real.

Grabbing the first set of clothes he finds, he takes to the task of getting them on, which Simon blearily blinks at, helping for a few seconds at a time before his mind turns to mush.

Half an hour later Simon is pretty knocked out on the sofa, propped upright incase he has another fit of throwing up. Kieren takes to cleaning up the mess in basically most of the rooms.

Phillip comes around under Shirley's request that they simply must come for some cake even if they can't stay for the party, and he gets a bit of a shock when Kieren answers the door.

Pale, drenched in sweat, clothes ruffled and hair sprawled across his forehead, a emotionally drained look about him and he was literally covered in a black substance.

Phillip opens and closes his mouth in shock.

Eventually he speaks. "Need any help?"

Kieren nods, swallowing past the sob crawling its way up his throat.

Phillip grabs a mop.

 

Simon doesn't wake for several hours, but when he does, Kieren is clutching him to his chest like a stuffed bear. He can hear the beautiful beating of his heart against his chest and the sniffling of his breathing.

And another noise. A strange sound.

It sounds loud, and very close.

Then he realises it is coming from him. The deep breaths his body was grasping at, tearing through his decomposing wind pipes.

It was a sloshing sound of sorts. He could pinpoint it now. It was the angry liquid crashing like waves inside his lungs.

Some of it was running down his chin and dripping onto Kieren's t-shirt.

Kieren's gasping didn't leave, rather it got worse, hugging him closer on the bed as he combed hands through Simon's hair.

"Sorry," Simon mumbles because it feels like the right thing to do.

Sorry for your loss, is what it feels like.

Simon knows he is dying. That he was sure of. It was in every inch of his whole body, the death.

But it didn't feel like this the first time around.

It didn't feel like he was hanging on the edge of a cliff, digging and scrabbling with bloody nails and aching fingers to please, let him stay a little longer.

Like he was grabbing at Kieren, clutching onto his soft, zip-ups with desperation because he needed this. He needed Kieren.

He didn't realise he had started to grasp onto Kieren until the other man let out a tiny whimper. He held with a similar determination to that on his mum's leg, first day of pre-school.

("Don't leave me here, with these people,")

"Don't let me die again," he is begging. And sobbing. Because shit, he is dying and he won't get to spend eternity with the only person he loves.

Simon had never thought about it in great detail with everything that had gone on, but in the back of his mind, they were made to be. They would spend the rest of their lives together.

They would grow old and grumpy together.

Constantly infuriating each other.

Buy a cat maybe.

Argue over whose turn it was to feed her and about silly things that would make them fall out for days.

They would send each other daggers and stubbornly refuse to speak to each other, but still, every evening they would sit on the porch and watch the sunset.

Every evening, no matter where they were in the world. Because that's what the old couples in the movies did and Simon imagined that as a fact.

"They lied," his fists tighten into Kieren's shirt and his face makes its way there, "They fucking lied," he just about manages to say.

"Who? Who lied?" Kieren doesn't sound much better.

Simon scrambles out of bed to stand, "Everyone!" he cries, running hands through his hair desperately, "Amy, the ULA-- everyone!"

"-They said the clock had been smashed!" his voice is hysterical now but that's okay, because Kieren wants to scream and yell and cry with him.

"The clock hasn't been smashed!" he yells, the usually composed, calm voice a victim of the world's cruelty and is cracked with anger, "It's been turned back! The hands have been snapped in half!"

"They- they are working on a cure," Kieren tries to catch his eyes as he clutches at the other's face, "It will fix this,"

"No, no," Simon mumbles as crippling sobs soar through his body, but Kieren just pulls him close, voice painted with a forced hope but the canvas is dripping with tears.

"You aren't that easy to get rid of Simon Monroe," he smiles a broken smile in the darkness and wraps Simon's limp body in his arms, "Believe me, you'll be alive and kicking for years to come. Pissing me off until eternity,"

Simon closes his eyes and shakes his head merely a milimetre.

God how he wishes he could piss Kieren off for eternity.

 

Every PDS-sufferer that had not warmed up yet had been issued a doctor's appointment with their local after the announcement from Norfolk.

Something about keeping track of the progress of the disease, to help with the research of the cure.

But like hell, would Simon listen to that bullshit.

Kieren didn't want to cause a scene, not with his family listening in the next room, but damn, this was important. The doctor had to know he was ill, so he would be first in line for the drug.

But would Simon hear of it?

Absolutely not.

Ultimately leading to their row.

It was just stern words and looks at first.

"You're going and that's that,"

"I'm not going anywhere,"

"I know doctors aren't you're cup of tea but you have no say over this Simon, it's too important,"

"You can't make me go anywhere Kieren, not there, not ever. End of,"

It's safe to say that it didn't quite stay that way. Instead taking quite an angry turn leading to them both yelling at the top of their lungs and the Walkers hovering outside the door, wondering if they should go in and split it up.

"You don't understand, do you? Just jump to fucking conclusions," they can hear Simon yell through the wall.

Worried looks are shared but not a word is spoken.

"How 'm I mean't to understand when you tell me fuck all!" Kieren yells bitterly back.

They go at it another few minutes until Simon ups and leaves, cursing viciously at Kieren before slamming the door, muttering quiet goodbyes to the stunned family as he passes them on his way to the door.

Kieren follows suit, fuming, fushed and angry breaths heaving. "Who does he think he is," he mutters furiously as he storms after Simon, his family blinking in his fiery wake.

"Hey you!" Kieren shouts as Simon practically hobbles down the path. Blatantly ignoring him.

"Dickhead!" he yells at Simon's back before jogging to meet him.

"What do you want?" Simon grumbles not meeting his eye as he walks on, stumbling and wobbling but stubborn nonetheless.

"There's no chance in hell of you walking out in an argument with me," he snaps back, falling into Simon's pace by his side, "I will have the last fucking word,"

"Child," the dark-haired man shoots back with a frown. He is still fuming. They both are.

"Twat," Kieren spits at him and Simon stops as they realise they're on the front step of the bungalow.

"Why are you even here then?" Simon gives him a venomous stare but it is almost no match for Kieren's.

The angry, flushed, living man frowns harder, "Because I love you, you idiot," he says it like Simon truly is, an idiot, "God knows why, when you're acting like this. But I do, and I want to be with you,"

Simon's mouth twitches, before it turns into a smile. Then a grin. Then a chuckle. Then a laugh. Until he's bursting out in floods of hysterical, uncontrollable giggles.

Before it changes to floods of tears instead. Because this reminds him of what he's going to lose. What's going to be someone else's.

He will be replaced.

God, he hadn't even thought about that.

"Simon, please,"

No. No. No. No.

"I can't lose you," and there's something in his defeated tone that crushes Simon's own resolve. "Will you come with me?" he utters almost silently.

It feels pathetic even as he says it. He shouldn't need Kieren to come with him and hold his hand. But he does. God, he does.

There's no mistaking Kieren's suprised hopefullness in his eyes as he whispers an assured, "Of course,"

Simon nods, making a delicate ghost of a smile flash over Kieren's lips, "Okay,"

"Will we leave now? Get it over and done with," Kieren rubs his arm.

("Will we leave now? So you don't change your mind and see sense," is what Simon knows he means when he says it).

But Simon is just so tired. He wants Kieren to keep smiling, so he shrugs, "Okay," he repeats and is rewarded with his smile.

This appointment isn't going to change anything. He's still dying. He knows Kieren knows it, deep down. But if he needs to go through the denial to cope, Simon will let him.

They enter the surgery and its already holding a few living and PDS in the waiting room, flicking through magazines and yawning boredly.

Simon tenses and Kieren ushers him to a seat, leaving him with a comforting touch on the shoulder to speak with the receptionist.

Dr Russo is free to go through with the asigned apointment in ten minutes and Kieren turns back to find Simon departing.

Luckily he's quick enough and he clamps a foot between the bathroom door and its frame before Simon has a chance to lock himself in.

"What's up?" he says slowly. Simon stares back with frantic eyes and Kieren glances around, not wanting a potential audience, follows Simon into the bathroom and closes and locks the door.

"Kieren-"

"Talk to me, Simon," he demands in hushed tones, "What's going on with you?"

The other crouches by the toliet and pulls his knees to his chest, "I don't like these things," he explains weakly.

"I get that," he flops down to sit next to Simon, their shoulders touching, "But why?"

Simon shrugs and it stirs something in Kieren. "See, this is what I meant earlier," he tries to keep his voice calm, steady and neutral. Not like he was having a go.

"You tell me half explanations but never really explain fully, I never understand. How am I supposed to help?" he says softly and Simon nods, covering his face with his hands.

He takes in a deep, shuddering breath and Kieren almost feels guilty. "I just don't want to scare you off,"

Kieren's jaw practically drops. How could he even consider that? After everything that had happened.

"Are you daft?" he slaps Simon's arm lightlybut it doesn't coax a smile as it usually would.

"Remember the treatment centre-" he begins but is interrupted by the sound of someone calling him from outside.

"Monroe?"

"-What about it?" Kieren says urgently, muscles twitching in anticipation. But Simon had lost his sudden burst of bravery, weakly hoping Kieren would just work it out.

"It-" he shakes his head against the rush of memories that swoop back, "It's not a nice place," he whispers, a distant look settling onto his features.

Kieren swallows hard. A heavy sense of doom settling in the pit of his stomach.

He wants to hold Simon, to question him further and get some real answers, but the voice from outside is calling again.

"We'll talk about this later, okay?" he says as he presses kisses to Simon's cheek.

Simon only nods as he also climbs to his feet. "It'll be okay, promise. I'm here,"

They do admittedly get a couple of strange looks as they both exit the cramped bathroom, neither caring enough to explain and noone with enough guts to say anything.

"Simon?" Dr Russo stands by the doorway and the Irish man stiffens. Fear alighting within him.

Kieren touches his arm and he manages to blurt out a "Here," the doctor smiles politely and nods in direction to his room, "If you'd like to follow me this way, please,"

There must be something about the look of pure, unmistakable terror in his face because he doesn't question why Kieren is following too.

 

He answers the questions with a stuttering nervousness that made his anxiety as clear as day.

That he could manage, but when it came to the examination, that wasn't going to go so swimmingly.

"If you could just step out for a moment Kieren," Dr Russo says as he writes in his clipboard.

The two share a look and Kieren hesitates, moving from his seat beside Simon to stand.

The other's hand weakly grabs at the hem of his jumper and Kieren stops in his tracks.

"Don't," his eyes are pleading and desperate but he says in quietly. The doctor glances up from his pages and does a double take as he notes the scene.

"It will only take a moment," he says reassuringly, "I don't bite," Kieren smiled back politely but Simon looks nothing short of horrified.

"I'll be right outside if you need me," he leans into Simon and gives his arm a rub, "Okay?"

Simon swallows hard and attempts to pull himself together, "Yeah," he croaks back and the closer Kieren gets to the door, the more the anxiety eats at him.

For a few minutes Kieren hears nothing, so he takes it to be a good sign. But the quiet doesn't last and on the seventh minute, he hears Simon yell.

He doesn't hold back on throwing himself into the room. Heart thudding, he opens to the view of Simon sitting on the examination table and Dr Russo with his hands held up.

"It won't hurt Simon-"

"No," he says so firmly that it startles the doctor; his hands firmly holding the hem of his jumper as though someone might pull it off out of his will.

"Kieren," Dr Russo stares at him, begging for help but Kieren simply shakes his head gently.

"If he doesn't want to-" the look in Simon's terrified face settles his resolve, "We won't make him,"

He looks unsure, face twisting in thought, "It's part of the procedure," the stethoscope dangles from his hand.

"-But we can skip it, yeah?" Kieren holds his gaze with melted chocolate, puppy brown eyes and while the doctor doesn't look convinced, he reluctantly agrees.

"Well yes," he shrugs.

It mightn't have been the right way to go about it, but the relief and gratitude on Simon's face makes it all worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opinions/thoughts/critiques are welcome and LOVED!! :) x *sends you virtual hugs*
> 
> Oh and thanks for reading kind human!


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